Monster
by FreddyJasonV
Summary: Jack Napier is your average everyday guy. He's a hard worker, but a loner. He's been having bad luck all his life. But one day on the job, he really realizes just how one rotten day can change your life forever... My take on Joker's origin. Please R&R.
1. Why Me?

Well, this is my take on what happened that Jack Napier got turned into our beloved Joker. I hope you all enjoy, as this is my first Batman related fanfic. NOTE: This is based off _The Batman's_ Joker, so to all the Joker fans out there, this is a heads up.

**Chapter 1: Why Me?**

It was like every other day of his life. He was a loner, a man without a family who got along in life by being himself and staying out of the way of others. And now he was busying himself with making breakfast.

Jack gave the pan a little jerk, flipping his pancake over. He sighed, glancing up at the clock to make sure of the time, then dumped his breakfast down onto a plate. Grabbing the maple syrup from the fridge, he walked over to the table and sat down, setting the plate down in front of him. Today was supposed to be his big day, finally. _A promotion._

No more pushing papers, no more filing files that needed to be put away, and best of all, to him, he wouldn't have to deal with his current boss breathing down his neck telling him how to do the job right.

He quickly scarfed his breakfast down, downed a cup of coffee sitting on the kitchen counter, then raced off into the living room to grab his briefcase. He paused in front of the mirror, looking at his reflection as he fixed his tie, then hurried out the door, locking it behind him.

Jack hurried down the street, glancing at his watch again. He didn't want to risk losing this big moment by such a thing as being late.

"Hey, watch it!" A big man shoved him abruptly, knocking him out of his thoughts. "Watch where you're going, you idiot!"

"Sorry, sir.." Jack mumbled, lowering his head as the man glared at him.

"That's right, you better be sorry." The man cracked his knuckles and marched off down the street, throwing a dirty look back at Jack.

Jack let out a heavy sigh of relief, then quickly moved off. _Can't be late, can't be late..._ He joined a group of people at the end of the sidewalk, waiting for the light to change. Another glance at his watch.

"So did you hear about the guy that killed that couple last night?" a girl behind him asked her friend.

Jack glanced back to see she was wearing an all-black tanktop with chains on her black jeans and combat boots on."I heard he cut their throats, then shot himself!" She twirled a length of hair in her fingers.

"No way!" the boy beside her yelled, grinning. Her friend was wearing similar clothes, except he had his nose and tongue pierced.

"Yeah, from what I heard, the guy was so crazy he took out his whole family, then took his own life." _Smack smack smack._

Jack bit his lip, wincing a little. The girl was smacking a large piece of bubble gum, chewing away on it like there was no tomorrow. He forced himself to block their conversation out, shutting his eyes for a brief moment.

"Yo, dude, get moving! You're screwing everyone up by blocking the way!"

He opened his eyes with a little gasp. The light had changed and the crowd was making their way across the street, and he hurried to catch up. The girl and her friend behind him kept whispering in hushed voices together and he noticed them pointing at him out of the corner of his eye.

As he reached the other side of the street, he suddenly felt a rough push on his back and he tripped over his briefcase, the latches coming open. Papers spilled out onto the sidewalk, scattering as the wind took them.

"No!" Jack's eyes widened as he frantically tried to collect his papers, moving all over the ground on his knees, trying to catch his work before the wind took it all from him. He could hear loud laughter behind him as he picked up a few papers, tucking them back into safety. "Why'd you do that?" he asked back at them, glancing over his shoulder.

A black combat boot stepped down onto another paper near his hand. "Because I felt like it, man. You should've been paying attention to the road. Good way to get yourself run over." It was the gum-smacking girl.

"Dude, you're lucky you didn't get a face-plant on the side or front of a car," the boy beside the girl cawed, laughing. "But I'm sorry, are these yours?" He held out a handful of papers.

Jack reached out to take them, feeling slightly better. At least this girl's friend wasn't so cold-hearted...

"Haha, nice try, dude!" The arrogant boy threw his hand into the air, letting the papers fly as a strong gust of wind blew up the street. The wind caught the papers and they flew high into the air, quickly disappearing out of sight over the buildings.

"Nice one, Jake! C'mon, let's go see what else this city has." The girl slapped the boy named Jake on the shoulder and they walked off down the street, still laughing.

After a few moments of hurt and quick snatching, Jack had the remainder of his papers tucked back safely into his briefcase. He closed the latches, making sure they hadn't broken in the fall, then jogged down the street, heading towards the commuter train. _Can't be late._

I I I

Jack threw open the office door and hurried inside, rushing past the crowded lunch room. How anyone could stand to be in that crush of people during break was anyone's guess. He moved down the hall quickly, only wanting to get into his own private room.

He flung open the door leading into his office and slammed the briefcase down onto his desk. Tears burned his eyes as he stumbled around his desk and took his seat, burying his face in his hands. He wasn't a bad guy, why did everyone think he deserved to be treated as one?

"Jackie?" A knock at his open door made him look up.

A man with short brown hair stood at the doorway, removing the glasses from his nose and holding them at his side. "This a bad time?"

"No, no, you just caught me off-guard, is all." Jack picked his briefcase up off the desk and set it down beside him on the floor. "I've had a rough morning."

The man stepped into his office, giving him a pained look. "Again? Man, you need to watch out for those jerks. People can be so cruel."

"Yeah, I know, Jon. But hey, I'm here, right?" Jack smiled up at his friend, resting his chin on his hand. "And I got here on time, despite what happened this time."

Jon bit his lip hard, coming over and leaning against Jack's desk, resting his hands on the wood. "Well...actually, Jack, you're twenty minutes late." He looked up at his friend's face.

"...what?" Jack looked down at his watch, alarmed to see the glass was broken. His briefcase must've smashed against the watch glass and busted it open. He looked back up at Jon. "What did..." He swallowed hard. "What did Mr. Bollinger say?"

His friend sighed and put his glasses back on, looking him in the eye. "Man, you know I care about you. I'm not even sure why he tolerates my visits, even though I don't work here, you know that. But..."

Jack leaned towards him, all ears now. "Please, Jon. Tell me straight."

His friend sighed, looking around the dingy office once before returning his gaze to his friend again. "He told me that you'd been fired."

That was it then. Jack slumped back into his seat, unable to believe what he was hearing. Mr. Bollinger had said he'd been granted a promotion, and those ignorant teens at the traffic light had made him late, they'd cost him his job...

"I'm sorry, Jack, really, I am. But you know, there's a spot open at the factory down the road." Jon kneeled down beside the desk, watching his friend closely. "I know it's sudden, but I'm sure they'll give you a job there." He stood back up, rapping his knuckles on the wood, then turned to walk out. Instead, he turned back to his friend. "I know you only did this for your father, but you should really do what you want to do. I mean, you just want to be a comedian, right?"

Jack nodded numbly, still in a state of shock. "I just want to make people laugh."

Jon sighed, rubbing his temples with two fingers, then headed for the door. He stopped at the doorway, looking back at him. "And Jackie?"

Jack swallowed hard, slowly looking up at him. "Yeah?"

Jon gave him a sympathetic smile, pulling out a deck of cards. "Don't let this get you down. You need to keep your spirits up and have a smile on your face. Don't look so downcast." He smacked the deck of cards onto the front of his friend's desk and breezed out the door.

Jack stared at the cards, then reached out and picked them up. A joker card grinned back at him, and he sighed, slipping the deck into his pocket.

I I I

Jack returned home late that night. He let the door swing open, trudging inside, letting his briefcase drop to the floor with a bang. His clothes were rumpled and his tie was undone, but he didn't care. He made his way over to the chair in the living room and collapsed in it.

"Fired..." he mumbled to himself. He ran his hands down over his face, still in disbelief. After working at the office for nearly fifteen years, he'd been fired. All because of some ignorant teens.

His black German shepherd came running at the sound of his voice, tail wagging, tongue hanging out and panting.

He picked up a photo sitting on the stand beside the chair, studying it, scratching the dog behind the ears. A young Jon was busy laughing as a young Jack showed him stupid card tricks. Jack smiled faintly. Those were the days.

He set the photo back down and sighed heavily, glancing over at the phone. Maybe Jon could put in a good word for him down at the chemical plant.

Instead of making supper like he did every night on daily routine, he leaned over, picked up the phone and called his friend. No one answered, so he left a message, then hung up.

"All I want to do is make people laugh. Is that really so much to ask for?" he asked no one in particular, staring around the living room. He looked at his dog; the black ears perked up and the loveable face tilted to the side. "I didn't think so."

He leaned back in the chair, putting his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling fan as it spun. "All I want to do is make people laugh..." His eyes closed and within ten minutes, he was fast asleep, supper forgotten.

I I I

So how you guys think of this so far? I'm hoping to have another chapter up soon, maybe a bit longer. Poor Jack just cannot get a break....


	2. Betrayal

I'm having a lot of fun writing this. ^_^ But I won't go on, I'll let you go ahead and read.

**Chapter 2: Betrayel**

Jack busied himself the next day with checking his watch once again as he hurried off down the street. He'd found an older watch in his dresser drawer and had slipped it on the moment he found it. It might've been old, but at least it wasn't broken.

He kept a sharp eye out for trouble as he jogged down the street, keeping an eye out for annoying teenagers or anyone he might accidently run in to.

The sun was high in the air and the sky was clear, signaling that nothing could go wrong with this day. For once, Jack felt happy with the day. He was enjoying the sights, the sounds, the smells. He had a new job, thanks to his friend, and he wasn't going to let anything screw it up this time.

He'd have to thank Jon the moment he could call him. His friend had made some special calls for him and he'd gotten the job with no problem. From what his friend had told him, they'd been looking for someone to help out with the new filing system and no one seemed to know what to do. Jack had been glad he'd been in an office for the past fifteen years.

Jack turned a corner, quickly dodging a run-in with a rottweiler on a leash, then trotted up the stairway to the commuter train. He joined a group of people waiting for the train and hummed softly to himself, looking around the city.

A twittering flock of birds flew by, he could hear the sound of a jackhammer in the distance along with the sounds of hammering, and he could smell all the food smells from nearby restaurants and stands. A glorious day, indeed.

Nothing could go wrong today, he had a new job and he'd had no trouble with pesky kids. _Well, better not jinx myself just yet. Something could happen on the train._

He looked up as the train approached the station, smiling to himself. He had a pocketful of papers, but nothing else that could be used against him, like his briefcase had been. The factory boss had mentioned he wouldn't need all his papers the first day, they just wanted to see how well he could fare with the new filing system.

The crowd of people crushed onto the train once it'd stopped, spreading out once they'd boarded. Jack took a seat before anyone else could steal it from him, sitting quietly, still humming softly. The people around him spread out among the seats, all talking quietly to their friends or sitting quietly like Jack was.

A memory came back to him as he looked around, one of him and Jon racing back and forth on the train when they were kids. He smiled at the thought; the conductor had allowed them into the first train to let them see firsthand how fast the train moved along the tracks.

About twenty minutes later, the train pulled into the station Jack needed to get off and he squeezed his way through the people to get off. No one complained and no one tried to trip him. His smile grew wider. Yes, nothing could go wrong on this day.

Moving quickly down the steps, he breezed down the sidewalk, looking up as the chemical plant loomed into view. He stopped, looking up at it, studying how big the plant seemed to be.

The building was huge, nearly all windows. It looked to be about ten stories high, from what Jack could see, but he wasn't sure. The brick was a mottled gray, with broken cracks here and there, and there seemed to be splashes of dark color by a basement window.

Jack shook himself out of his thoughts and headed towards the front door. A guard greeted him at the doorway.

"You have a pass, sir?" the guard asked, not unkindly.

"Right here." Jack pulled out his papers, showing them to the guard. "I'm new here, should I be aware of anything?"

The guard chuckled, handing the papers back. "Just watch your step on the third floor. I heard they're working on a new type of chemical to help cancer patients, but that's what they say about everything they do in there." He gave Jack a friendly smack on the back as he passed by him.

"Thanks for the advice," Jack smiled back at him, then headed in, looking around.

A long hallway with doors all along the hall marked "Employees Only" and "Restricted Access" led to a large room at the end with double doors. Jack approached them and pushed through, seeing a balding man standing by a large window.

"Mr. Harris?" Jack paused at the doorway, unsure now. Was he in the right place?

The man turned to look at him, and he was relieved to see the man was smiling. He wore a dark blue suit with matching pants and his mustache made Jack think of an old western flick he'd seen.

"Jack Napier, I assume?" The man strode across the room and took Jack's hand, shaking it, smiling at him.

"Yes. I hope I didn't disturb your thoughts," Jack replied, smiling back.

Mr. Harris waved his hand at him. "No, my dear boy, not at all. I was waiting for you to arrive." He steered Jack over to a large couch, letting him sit before taking his own seat in a chair. A table split the two in half, so he leaned towards Jack, all smiles. "Your friend has told me a lot about you, my boy. He said you have a lot of experience in the filing system."

Jack smiled at him again. He liked the way this man tried to make him feel comfortable. "Yes, I do. I worked at Gotham Access Systems for quite a few years." He allowed himself to chuckle a little. "Got more experience than I'd prefer."

The man sitting across the table laughed. "My boy, that's what we like to hear. Our system has been giving us problems and I'm afraid we just can't figure it out. Maybe you can give it a spin."

"I'd like to do that, Mr. Harris. Just need to see the system and I should have it figured out in no time."

Mr. Harris stood, holding his hand out to him, and Jack stood as well, shaking it. "Well, Mr. Napier, walk with me." He started off through a pair of glass doors and Jack followed him, beaming.

The two men walked down a hall until they reached an elevator. There, Mr. Harris typed in a pass code and they waited until the door opened. Jack followed his new boss inside, feeling this was the happiest day of his life.

I I I

Jack flung open the door to his house, startling his dog. He shut the door behind him, jumping about happily before grabbing the German shepherd around the neck, hugging the dog to him.

"I got a job, I got a job, Midnight!" he yelled, hugging the dog tighter.

Midnight woofed, wagging his tail happily as Jack let him go. He watched his master race around the living room, then followed him into the kitchen.

"Mr. Harris wants me to come back later tonight to work on the system again." Jack occupied himself with making a bowl of macaroni and cheese, giving the dog a handful of noodles. Midnight happily gobbled them up. "This day couldn't just possibly get any better!"

In his excitement, Jack knocked the bowl off the counter and it smashed against the floor, spilling noodles on the tile. He looked down at the mess; Midnight chuffed up at him, then started licking the noodles up off the floor.

"Well, okay, maybe that could happen. But it couldn't possibly put me down." He smiled, pulling another bowl out of the cabinet and putting more noodles in it, taking care to keep the bowl away from the counter edge.

There was a steady _click click click_ing noise as Midnight moved around the kitchen, licking up any stray noodle he found as Jack slipped the bowl in the microwave. He looked up at the clock as he set the timer.

It was four-fifteen. He'd have to return to the chemical plant in about three hours.

"Woof."

Jack looked down. The German shepherd licked his lips, staring up at his master for more treats.

"Sorry, boy, that was all. You got those noodles by accident." He patted the dog on the head, retrieved his bowl from the microwave as the timer chimed, then moved into the living room, turning the television on. The dog followed him in, putting its head on the chair armrest. "Now, now, you had your share. This is mine."

Midnight whined and settled down onto the floor, putting his head between his paws, watching as images flashed across the tv screen.

Besides the tv sound, happy silence reigned throughout the house as Jack waited for the time to leave the house again.

I I I

Jack caught an early train later that night. The station was mostly empty, save for a few couples and some children. He boarded the train, all smiles, still in one of the happiest moods he could remember. Nothing had gone wrong. No one to pick on him or trip him up.

"Hey, I wanted to be the dragon!"

He looked over towards a woman with two little boys at her feet. They looked be about seven years old, and like any other boy he could think of, the two little ones were play-fighting with a miniature dragon and t-rex.

"Tough luck, I got it first!" the second little boy cried back at his companion. The dragon bit the dinosaur.

"Boys, boys, play nice," the woman scolded, her nose stuck in a book.

"Mom, Stevie's eating my t-rex!" the first boy screamed.

"Stevie, don't eat Dave's t-rex. And Dave, no stomping that thing around."

"Yes, mom..." both said in bored tones.

Jack chuckled quietly, watching the children. Jon used to do the same sort of thing to him when they'd play Cowboys and Indians in Gotham Park.

He looked out the window, watching the sun set. It was a mass of glowing orange and yellow behind the city line, pink and purple streaks thrown high into the air.

"Gotham Chemical Plant and subways 65, 84, and 91, next stop," the conductor's voice came over the intercom.

Jack smiled happily, looking out the window again as the station came into view. He just couldn't help himself. He'd had a wonderful day where nothing had gone wrong, no one had tried to trip him up this time, and most glorious of all, he had a new job. A new start on life.

He stood as the train stopped, carefully moving around the two boys and they're fighting toys. The woman smiled at him as he passed, and he nodded back.

As he stepped out into the brisk air, he could hear little Dave and Stevie yelling at each other about which toy should be allowed to eat the other. The doors shut behind him, cutting off the squabble and he trotted down the stairs, breezing down the sidewalk.

He looked around the city as he went, still in a happy mood, despite the attitude of the city. The city, to him, was a miserable, yet joyful city to be in. There could be bad times, worse times, but then out of the blue, there would always be a good day.

The chemical plant came into view at the end of the road and he sighed, content, heading for the front door.

"Good evening, Mr. Napier," the guard said as Jack showed him his papers again, smiling.

"Evening."

"Heard they had some excitement in there sometime today," the guard laughed, looking up at the building.

"Really? What happened?" Jack glanced up at the dark windows.

"From what I heard, someone dropped the wrong chemical into the batch on the third floor. Screwed everything up. Whoever dropped it got fired. At least that's what it sounded like." The guard sighed, staring at the building. "I swear, they come up with the oddest things in there."

He turned to Jack, biting his lip. "Sorry to keep rambling. I won't keep you if you're busy."

Jack waved a hand at him. "It's fine. I'm just here tonight to work on that filing system again. It's been giving me problems all day, but I think if I work on it tonight, I should have it up and running tomorrow. Well, good night."

"Good night," the guard replied, smiling as Jack passed by him.

Jack pushed through the doors, heading down the hall and through the big room, moving towards the elevator. Hopefully whoever had caused the trouble hadn't created a mess....

He pushed 3 on the control panel and hummed to himself as he waited. Maybe he'd be able to see what had happened whenever he went into the computer room.

The bell chimed, the doors sliding open, and he shook himself out of his thoughts. He stepped in, smiling as the doors whooshed shut behind him, then watched as the arrow moved slowly up to three.

After another bell chime and another whoosh of the doors, Jack stepped out onto the walkway, suddenly bathed in an eerie green glow.

He moved carefully across the walkway, looking down at the dozen or so huge vats sitting twenty feet below him. They were filled with a bubbling violent green liquid, the noise filling the entire room. He tried to ignore the sound as he passed through, unnerved at the sickly glow the chemicals gave off.

Jack quickly slipped into the computer room, shutting the door behind him, sighing when the bubbling sound was cut off. He looked around, welcoming the familiar sight and hum of the computers.

One's screen was already pulled up, one he'd left up for himself to continue off when he got back. He walked over to the computer, sitting down and started searching through the programs.

After a few minutes of typing away on the keyboard, Jack realized this program was the problem in the first place. He paused in his work, putting his hand on his chin, deep in thought, then went to a search bar and typed in a code.

The computer pinged and he smiled. Problem solved. He pulled up the next program and started working on that one. With so many chemical files and folders, this would definitely be a challenge for him.

I I I

After a couple hours of working, Jack sat back in his seat and stretched, sighing. This new filing system was definitely giving him problems, but he was having fun with it. At his old office, he'd never been given a chance to prove how good he really was, he'd never gotten to do much of anything more than the same old thing every day.

"Boy, I see what they mean about this system," he muttered to himself, standing up and stretching again. Time to take a break.

Grabbing his coffee cup from beside the mouse, he yawned, turning and heading towards the door. He winced as the bubbling chemicals seared his nostrils as he opened the door, walking out onto the walkway.

The chemicals stank to high heaven and they burned the nose if one stuck around too long. As much as he hated to, he looked down into the vats again. That green glow was just so eerie. It made him wonder what they were cooking in there.

Jack quickly moved off along the walkway, pushing the button on the elevator panel. He waited impatiently, annoyed at the chemicals, humming to himself, looking around. He quickly slipped inside as the door opened and pressed the button for 2.

The elevator hummed quietly as it took him down, the doors sliding open. He stepped out, looking around, then headed towards the kitchen.

A fresh pot was brewing in the maker and he waited a minute until it was done. Must be for the guard keeping watch outside. He only took a little, enough to keep him going, then turned, looking around the room.

The walls were a drab gray with cracks in the walls. The only other interesting thing Jack could find about the little kitchen was the notice board on the wall. He walked over to it, sipping his coffee, looking over the little bulletins. Nothing good.

He looked the bulletins over once more, then spotted something that was hidden among the boring papers. _Jonathan Crane._ He took a closer look at the paper, scanning over the article.

"_Jonathan Crane, head psychologist at Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane, has begun more research on what causes humans to be afraid. But lately, Dr. Crane's experiments have been taking an ugly twist. His patients seem to be having trouble sleeping at night and they rant and rave in their sleep, appearing to have bad nightmares. A handful of guards and workers have broken down in a fearful state, screaming and hurting all that get in their way in their rampage through the asylum. Dr. Crane insists his experiments are going fine, but it seems to be very clear the 'good doctor' has lost his mind. He's a twisted man who should be feared, just like his experiments. His experiments range from a liquid drink he gives to patients to a clear gas that can be used in direct contact to a human's face. Be warned. This man should not be approached without caution._"

Jack stared at the paper, speechless. Jonathan Crane. His FRIEND Jonathan Crane?? It just wasn't possible!

He tore the piece of paper off the board with a shaky hand, looking at it again. His friend couldn't have done this. Jon was too nice a guy to hurt people like this.

Lost in his train of thought, the coffee mug slipped from his hand and shattered against the floor, startling him. He quickly tucked the paper into his pocket, bending down to pick up the broken ceramic pieces. He managed to pick the bigger pieces up, threw them away, then got some paper towels to clean up the mess.

The whole while, the article burned in his mind. How could his friend do this? It just wasn't him. Jack had known Jon since they were little kids. Jon wasn't a bad guy, he was just...exceptionally smart.

He let the paper towels lay on the floor to soak up the coffee, waiting until the liquid had cooled enough for him to pick the towels up. A few minutes later and the entire mess was cleaned up, looking as though nothing had been spilled.

Jack sighed, pulling the paper out again and reading it again. It just couldn't be his friend, it couldn't. He knew Jon better than anyone else.

_Then how come Jon doesn't tell you what he works with? You know he works at Arkham, but not much of anything else. _

"Jon, what have to done?" he asked the paper, almost wishing he could ask his friend in person. But this...this problem couldn't be dealt with by him alone. If this is what Jon really did, Jack was afraid to even speak to him about it. What if Jon did something to him, despite their childhood friendship?

Jack shook his head, tucking the paper back into his pants pocket, walking out of the kitchen. He felt shocked that his closest and only friend could do this. True, Jon never spoke of what he did at Arkham. All Jack really knew was that he helped out with all the headcases there.

He headed over to the elevator, feeling numb throughout his entire body as the doors opened for him. He stepped inside, pressing the button, head hung.

_I wonder how long Jon's been doing this? He never mentions what he does at Arkham, and yet I still trust him. Do I still trust him? He's provoking fear in others with that new thing of his. That's not the Jon I grew up with. The Jon I knew never hurt a fly._

The doors slid open and he stepped out onto the walkway, going over to the railing and peering down at the chemicals, suddenly curious.

_Is this the place where he gets that stuff? He uses the chemical plant? Maybe he's been sneaking chemicals out of here for weeks, maybe years! The guard said someone had ruined this batch, but it seems no one knows what this stuff does. _

"Is that it, Jon? You've been using the chemicals from here for your sick experiments? You should be institutionalized yourself if you really are committing these crimes." Jack tightened his hold on the railing, fighting back tears of anger.

His friend. His closest and only friend. Jon was as bad as the nuts at Arkham. Was he responsible for all the murders he'd heard on the news days ago? The Arkham riot that left fifty dead and ten wounded?

Jack felt tears sliding down his cheeks. If Jon really was as bad as that article said, he couldn't trust him anymore. He'd have to figure out a way to break off their friendship. But what if Jon got angry and came after him? What if Jon drugged him the next time they hung out and used whatever sick chemical he had on him?

Too many ifs.

Jack felt hurt. No, he felt betrayed. Betrayed that his childhood friend had sunk so low as to become a psychopath, just like the ones he hung out with at the asylum.

"Jon, how could you? We were friends since we were kids and you go and do this."

The railing suddenly weakened and bent under his hand, startling him. He went to step back, suddenly finding himself falling over the edge, falling towards one of the vats. As he fell, he saw that the underside of the walkway was full of pockmarks, caused by the accident earlier.

Jack screamed, eyes widening in horror as he splashed down into the green liquid. A bright green wave sloshed over the sides of the vat, spilling onto the floor.

A moment passed before Jack kicked to the surface, screaming for someone to help him. The chemicals were burning into his skin, he was scared out of his mind; he'd swallowed quite a lot when he'd sunk under. _Oh God, please, no, don't let me die in this mess!_

"SOMEBODY, PLEASE!! HELP ME!!!" Jack splashed madly, kicking and choking, trying to get a hold of the side of the tank, feeling his eyes burn in their sockets. His whole body was on fire, he couldn't feel anything else but agony.

His hand caught the side of the vat and he pulled himself up, pulling himself out of the chemicals, gasping for air.

"Please, anyone!" he called out, choking as the chemicals burned his throat, lungs on fire.

When no one answered his cries and screams, he let himself fall to the floor, landing with a squishy thud. He grew still, gasping for air, curling up into a fetal ball. His hands balled up into fists of hatred.

_Jon...you betrayed me... No... Gotham... You all betrayed me...you let me fall._

I I I

O.O Poor little Jacky... He honestly didn't deserve the fate he'd just been thrown into... But if you liked this chapter, the 3rd one is on it's (slow) way. ^^ I'm open to ideas and thoughts as to how the poor guy could react to his new life. Cookies to whoever guessed who Jon really was before I gave it away. ^^


	3. Lucky Is All

**Chapter 3: Lucky Is All**

Jack moaned in agony, biting his lip as he tried to move. Every movement set his limbs on fire, his body in excruciating pain. He looked around, trying to find a way out of the room he was now stuck in. He spotted a large drainage tunnel in the wall, hoping it would lead to a way out.

There was a loud pounding sound in his head. It took him a moment to realize he could hear his heart pounding over everything else. A thought of contempt raced through his mind.

_I'm going to die here because everyone's so careless._

He tried to stand– and immediately cried out in pain. He froze up, whimpering, biting his lip hard as the pain ripped through his body. His attention remained on the pipe.

_Got to...find water... Wash off the chemicals before anything happens..._

Gritting his teeth in agony, Jack slowly crawled for the pipe.

The floor away from the tanks was at a slant, letting the remaining chemicals that had splashed out run into the pipe into the unknown.

Tears of hot agony ran down his face as he crawled towards the pipe, forcing himself to keep moving. It took all his willpower to keep moving rather that just collapse and let the pain claim him.

He reached the pipe, trying to stand again, forced to his knees once more from the pain. Sticking with a slow crawl, he made his way into the tunnel, following it into the darkness, hoping it didn't have a drop-off he wouldn't see in time.

Minutes crept by, making every moment stretch for Jack. He didn't know how long he'd been crawling, but he could finally see light at the end of the tunnel.

_Please let there be water..._

Jack let out a shriek of agony and relief as he reached the end. The tunnel led to a murky pond, letting the waste spread out into the controlled water. He saw a metal fencing around the pond and the area around it, but didn't take in much of the other sights. He let himself drop from the tunnel into the water with a splash, making his way towards the shore, slowly and painfully.

After what felt like a lifetime to him, Jack reached the bank and collapsed in the mud, breathing heavily, closing his eyes. Pain still lanced throughout his body, but it wasn't nearly as bad now. He let out a gasp as he realized just how badly his lungs and throat burned. He could barely speak, his throat felt so raw. He clapped a hand to his face, massaging his eyes, trying to lessen the pain in them.

_Screw this, the water helped wash the chemicals off, the effect should be the same for my eyes..._

Jack forced himself back into the water, opening his eyes. He let out a gurgled scream, splashing back onto the bank, shivering. Whatever those chemicals were supposed to do, or maybe it was whatever that person had spilled into them, Jack didn't care. All he knew was that it _hurt_.

He laid there for a few minutes, shivering violently, tears still streaming down his face, sobbing. The workers should've been more careful; they should've checked the walkway after the accident. They'd been so careless and now Jack had to suffer for their neglect.

Crickets chirped in the nearby grass, only enhancing his loneliness. An owl hooted in a nearby tree.

Rubbing a hand over his face, he sniffled, wiping his hair out of his face, looking around slowly, not wanting to bring more pain than he was already in.

There would be no easy way for him to get home in the condition he was in and no one knew what had happened to him. How would he get out of here?

_Maybe the water is the key. It helped to lessen the pain, maybe if I stay here for a while, the pain will eventually fade away. God, I hope so. _

Jack slid back into the water, clinging to the bank, afraid if he let go, the pain would overwhelm him and he would sink and drown. Taking a breath, he slipped under again, opening his eyes underwater again, finding it hurt less this time. He waited until he needed air before coming up, dunking himself repeatedly before he felt better.

When he felt like the pain had receded to an ache, he dragged himself out of the pond, panting, sitting in the grass. It was going to be a long way back if he'd missed the night train. He didn't want to wait around while he was still hurting; he'd be the perfect target for a mugging.

He caught his breath, then forced himself to stand, trudging through the weeds towards the edge of the fence.

God, it hurt so bad to move. Maybe he could call in sick tomorrow, or better yet, if he felt better, he'd go in. No point in risking his new job over a little chemical bath.

He reached the fence, climbing over it with horrible effort, falling onto the other side, breathing hard. Yes, this was going to take a while.

"Why did it have to be me?" he rasped, coughing. His chest and throat hurt so bad... Hopefully the chemicals didn't do any major damage. He'd just have to hope for the best.

Jack stood slowly, wincing as a lance of pain tore through his body, then made his way towards the side of the building. Every step brought pain. Right now all he wanted to do was get home and collapse on the bed.

Minutes crept by, or maybe it was hours, Jack didn't know, but he finally reached the train station, sitting on the bench and looking up at the schedule. He had a five minute wait, according to the times.

"Excuse me, are you okay?" a voice interrupted his thoughts.

Jack blinked, looking up to see a tall girl wearing pink and purple. She stared back at him, quiet.

"Sorry?" he croaked, trying to clear his voice.

"You look like you fell in a pool and you look cold. I was wondering if you were okay?" She stood a few feet away from him, watching.

"Um...sorta.. Office party." He tried to smile at her, but it hurt to do so. Luckily she took it as a good sign and smiled back.

A bitter thought flashed through his mind.

_Sure, after everything that's happened to me tonight, finally a spark of kindness. It just happened to come AFTER I fell into that tank..._

"Are you sure you're okay?" the girl asked, still not walking away.

He looked back up at her, a little wary now.

"Your eyes look bloodshot."

"Oh, yeah... That. That's just my allergies kicking up." He gave her another small smile, just wanting to be left alone now.

"Ah. Ok." The girl smiled and walked away, humming to herself.

Jack looked down at his hands, suddenly worried. His eyes looked bloodshot?

_Well, then again, I did fall into burning chemicals. It only makes sense for them to be irritated by something like that._

He stood as the train approached, the whistle warning anyone who might be near the tracks. He rubbed at his eyes again, feeling them itch as the train slowed to a stop, the doors opening.

A father and his daughter got off, but the train seemed to be empty besides that.

He stepped onto the train, going over to a seat and sitting down, folding his hands together, frowning. Just what exactly had he fallen into? A dangerous new poison? A new treatment for a disease?

It scared him to think about it. But maybe he was worrying over nothing. Maybe nothing would happen. Maybe he was just overreacting.

Jack kept to his thoughts as the train moved along the tracks, glancing out the window time to time. Every time he did, the scenery was the same. Pitch black sky filled with the lights of the city, buildings rushing by.

He narrowed his eyes a bit, staring at the drab colors of the city. There was no color to it, no exceptions to the grays and browns of the buildings. He'd noticed it as he grew up but never thought much about it.

_Gotham is much too dark. Why can't any of the buildings have a bit of color in them? A bit of red maybe. Anything but gray and brown._

The lights above him rattled and he slid in his seat a little as the train lurched to a stop at a station.

"Gotham Avenue, subways 15, 20, and 37, last stop," the conductor told the mostly empty cab.

Jack stood, walking over to the doors, feeling sore all over, heading out when they slid open. He stumbled a little on the stairs, his legs suddenly giving out under him. He held onto the railing tightly, panting, hearing the train screech away behind him.

_God, I'm only halfway home, I still have to go down the street just to get home. What if I collapse before I make it?_

He stood there for a minute, waiting for his strength to return, then moved off slowly down the street, keeping a hand on the wall to keep himself steady. All the while, thoughts danced in his mind.

_Look at me, I'm fine. I'm just a little weak from such a close encounter with death. I'll be fine. Nothing's happened, except my eyes are a little bloodshot. It's fine, I'm okay. I just took a dunk in burning chemicals, it's to be expected._

A nightbird screeched somewhere nearby, startling him badly. There was a flurry of wings and something big and brown flew out in front of him. Probably an owl feeding on mice; he didn't care to find out.

Jack paused at an alley way, trying to straighten up more. If a gang saw him in the condition he was in, he'd most likely be killed for money he didn't even have on him. He sighed and marched on, rubbing at his eyes again.

"Hey, bozo, watch where you're going!"

He received a rough push, slamming up against the wall.

"You'd best stay out of my way, boy!" A big man glared back at him, black mustache quivering. He looked like he belonged in a motorcycle gang, with all the leather he was wearing. "Well, hey, looky here. You're all wet. What'd you do, fall in the harbor?"

Jack stared up at him quietly, then looked down at the ground, avoiding eye contact. He was in no mood for this, he didn't want to be beat up for something he couldn't help.

"Hey, buddy, I'm talking to you. You'd best look at me." The man pushed him again, sneering at him, and Jack glanced up. Big mistake. "Yeah, that's right, little boy. You stay on your side of the street and we'll be fine."

Jack saw the massive fist too late, catching it up under the chin as he tried to back away. He smacked his head off the side of the alley wall, stumbling back. He felt something spark in him, but he couldn't tell what it was.

"You even take punches like a sissy," the man growled, coming for him again. He raised his fist, driving it towards Jack's face.

Calmness swept over Jack as he saw the punch coming, watching it. Time seemed to slow down, a ghost of a whisper running through his mind, gone before he could figure out what it was. Time started to speed up again.

He suddenly moved to the right, the blow missing him. The man howled as his knuckles struck the brick, stepping away from Jack.

Quietly, he crept off before the man could recover, slipping into the alley and glancing back. The man didn't follow him in. He looked down at his shaky hands, feeling confused. What had just happened? He'd never had reflexes like that before.

_Maybe I'm finally learning to avoid confrontations by just running away now. Why can't people just leave me alone?_

He waited until he was positive the man had left before creeping back out, wary. A quick glance at the wall told him the man had probably broken his knuckles; there was a splash of blood on the brick.

Jack made his way down the street, uninterrupted this time. He could still feel his heart pounding from the attempted beating, not sure what had all happened. His reflexes were never that great before, he'd always been a bit slow to react.

He slowly trudged up the stairs to his house, feeling around for his keys and pulling them out. A soaked wad of paper fell out on the stairs and he looked down at it. _Jon..._

He picked the paper up with trembling fingers, holding it in his hand. It'd be pointless to keep it now, it was a balled up wad of nothing now. He sighed, slipping the key in the lock and opening the door, walking inside.

Midnight came running at the sound of the jangling keys, tail wagging and panting happily. He started licking his master's face as Jack knelt in front of him, hugging the dog tightly.

"Geez, boy, what a I night I had..." Jack stood back up, ruffling the dog's fur, scratching him behind the ears. He threw the wet piece of paper away, then walked off towards the stairway, marching up to his bedroom, Midnight right behind him. The dog followed him into the bedroom, where Jack went over to the phone, called the plant and called off sick.

I I I

Jack woke up the next morning, lying under a tangled mess of sheets and shed dog hair. He was laying halfway off the bed, one arm and leg dangling off the side, his face pressed into his pillow. The sheets around him were pulled every which way.

"Oh...I feel like a train hit me..." he groaned, slowly turning over. Midnight stared back at him, sitting next to the bed. The dog chuffed at him, bent down and sat back up.

Chuckling, Jack sat up slowly, watching his dog. Midnight whined back at him, holding his food dish in his mouth.

"Okay, okay, you're hungry. I'll get your breakfast in a moment." He started to move around more and the dog raced out of the bedroom. Jack could hear the thundering of the paws on the stairs, then the distant clicking of claws on the kitchen tile.

Jack sat at the edge of the bed, sighing, then blinked, looking down at himself. He was still in his clothes, the material all rumpled from sleeping in them. So last night had really happened then...

He winced, touching his fingers to his chin. Apparently the punch had happened too. Stretching his arms out, yawning, Jack stood, slowly making his way over to the dresser, peering into the mirror.

His eyes were a tiny bit red, but they didn't appear to be bloodshot like that girl had said. Probably just still irritated from the chemicals.

"People really need to be more careful with things as dangerous as that," Jack mumbled, pulling his shirt over his head. He pulled a fresh one out of the dresser, changing the rest of his clothes as well.

Despite falling into burning chemicals and nearly getting beat up, Jack felt remarkably well, considering what happened to him. His body was only a little sore and he felt a little tired , but other than that Jack felt fine.

He stared at himself in the mirror again, stretching his bottom eyelid down, looking for anything wrong. Nothing out of place.

"Guess I'm just being paranoid." He looked down at his arms_, _a little startled to see a few faint burn marks on his arms. "Well...guess I shouldn't be surprised." He rubbed his arms carefully, running his fingers over the burn marks. They tingled, but didn't hurt.

Thunderous barking ripped through the house, making him jump a bit. Midnight was hungry.

"All right, all right, I'm coming!" he yelled down to the dog. He looked at the mirror one last time, then sighed, heading out the door and down the stairs.

Midnight danced in place as his master came into the kitchen, running over and nudging his food bowl towards him. He looked up, tilting his head, panting happily, perking his ears up.

Jack smiled at him, scratching him behind the ears. "Okay, okay." He bent down, opening a cabinet door, pulling out a bag of dog food and pouring a little in the bowl.

The German shepherd dove his head in, chomping away, tail wagging.

Jack looked up at the clock on the wall. Only eleven-thirty in the morning. He bit his lip. He'd always been a hard worker and he never really liked to miss a day of work. He didn't want to start off his new job by calling off sick already.

He sighed. "What should I do, boy? Should I just go in? Or should I really take the day off?"

The canine lifted his head, licking his black lips, looking at him for a moment before returning to his food.

"Screw it, I'll just stay home. Enjoy the day while I'm off." Jack walked over to the pantry, pulling out a small box of macaroni and cheese. He moved around the kitchen, getting it ready, then stuck it in the microwave. He set the timer, then turned to look back at Midnight.

The dog was just finishing up his breakfast, picking out the last few pieces of food and looking up at his master with a soft woof.

"Why is it that people hate me, huh? I'm not a bad person. I haven't done anything to anybody. I've done nothing wrong and yet here I am, at the low end of this city, constantly being shot down for no good reason." Jack sighed, leaning back against the counter. "All I want to do is make people laugh, but no one gives me the chance to do so."

"Woof."

"I knew you'd support me." Jack turned, taking the bowl out of the microwave as the timer chimed and grabbing a spoon from the drawer, then sat down at the table. "You're my only friend now, fur face."

Midnight walked over to him, whining softly, putting his head on Jack's lap. He licked at his hand, then sat quietly next to him.

Jack scratched the dog behind the ears, taking a bite– and nearly gagging. He choked it back out, confused. He'd never had trouble eating his favorite food before. What was going on?

He tried another bite, this one smaller. With the same results.

Midnight whined up at him.

"It's okay, boy, nothing's wrong." Jack stared down at the bowl, thinking. Could the chemicals be doing this?

_Well, I guess they could. I swallowed quite a bit, they could've changed my taste buds or something. Or my throat is still raw from the burning._

He tried swallowing a spoonful, barely getting it down. Giving up, he sighed and set the bowl down on the floor. Midnight happily helped out in cleaning the noodles out.

Jack watched the dog clean out the bowl, resting his chin on his hand. Okay, so he couldn't eat macaroni until he knew what was going on. Until then he'd just have to find something else.

He picked the empty bowl up off the floor, going over to the sink and filling it with water. Maybe the chemicals _had _burned his taste buds. But that didn't explain why he couldn't swallow a spoonful. And quite frankly, thinking about it now, the thought about eating macaroni made him sick.

Minutes ticked by as he stood at the sink, deep in thought. Okay, so the chemicals had ruined his sense of taste. Nothing too big. He could live with that.

A cold nose touched his arm and he turned, dropping to his knees, hugging the German shepherd.

"You're my one friend, fur face. Jon is...different now." He put his head against the dog's, sighing, then stood, walking into the room. "Let's go enjoy the afternoon while I'm off."

Midnight followed him, tail wagging happily.

I I I

So Jacky thinks he got off pretty easily. I'd consider myself pretty lucky to be alive if that ever happened to me. I know not much happened in this one besides the _slight_ reflex thing, but who knows what junk was all in those chemicals? X3


	4. Voices

**Chapter 4: Voices**

Jack went back to work two days later. He'd given up trying to see if the chemicals did anything to him over the past few days. He simply wasn't seeing or feeling any changes. Unless something happened, he wouldn't worry about it.

He greeted the guard at the front door, then stepped inside, looking around the main hall. Workers and some janitors prowled the hall, all in deep conversation with their buddies, moving back and forth.

"Hey, welcome back, Jack. Feeling better?" Mr. Harris walked up to him, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

Jack smiled at him, nodding. "That bug was horrible. It wouldn't leave me alone."

Mr. Harris smiled back at him, then looked off down the hall. "You missed a great deal of excitement while you were gone. The scientists working with the chemicals on the third floor were so worked up after the accident. The walkway had collapsed overnight when you were working here."

He gave him a sudden worried look. "You weren't here when that happened, were you? I'd hate to see something happen to any of my employees."

Jack shook his head. "That must've happened after I left. I had no trouble getting out."

Mr. Harris gave a sigh of relief, nodding. "That's good to hear. Well, needless to say, we got that walkway fixed in a hurry. It's great to have you back, Jack." He walked off, leaving Jack in the hall.

Sighing, Jack headed to the elevator, waiting for the doors to open before stepping inside, deep in thought. Maybe those chemicals would do no further harm to him. Maybe it was just the shock of falling in burning chemicals that made him think that.

_Too many maybes again..._

He stepped out onto the new walkway as the elevator doors swished open, looking down at the chemicals as he head towards the computer room. They were still a mean green color, still the same bubbling, rank mess. He shook his head, walking into the room and closing the door behind him.

A few people were sitting at their computers, working on different programs and sipping at different drinks.

"Hi, Jack. Feeling okay?" A girl in her early twenties waved at him from her computer.

"Hey, Melanie. Yeah, it was just a really bad stomach bug or something. It wouldn't go away." He sat down at his computer, looking over at her. "Midnight kept me company."

She smiled, lifting her coffee cup at him. "Good to hear."

He nodded, then turned to the screen, turning it on. A program window popped up and he sighed, relieved to be back at work. He didn't like to sit at home with nothing to do.

I I I

Three hours later, and Jack was staring at the screen, holding his head. The file program he was working on at the moment was giving him a bad headache. The whole system was giving him a headache and it didn't help with files and numbers flying across the screen at top speed.

"Ugh, this stupid thing..." he mumbled, tapping his fingers on the desk. He glanced up at the clock, sighing, then looked back at the screen. The blurs finally stopped and a window popped up. He clicked the approve button and the window disappeared, the whole mess vanishing in an instant.

He blinked, biting his lip hard. Three hours of work gone in an instant. He'd clicked the right button!

Jack groaned, pulling his hands down over his face in frustration. The headache wasn't helping matters, either. In fact, it was making things worse. It was like a burning pain at the back of his mind that just wouldn't go away.

"Jack, you okay?" He looked over the computer monitor. Steve, the person who worked on the formula names, stared back at him. "You look bad."

"I guess it's still that bug getting to me. I got a headache now."

"Ouch," Steve winced, giving him a sympathetic look. "I feel you, man. I was sick last week and it lasted three days." He stretched, going over to his desk, looking back at him. "Hope you feel better soon."

_Me too._ Jack stared at him a moment, then turned back to the screen, glaring at it. Maybe he should take a break, then start in on the system again.

He rubbed at his eyes, groaning in frustration, then glared at the screen again. "Why won't you work?" he hissed at it. The screen hummed back at him.

Sighing, Jack stood, picking his cup up and heading through the door, blocking out the smell and sound of the chemicals as he waited for the elevator. He stepped in quickly once the doors opened, rubbing his forehead.

The headache was killing him; it felt like the worst one he'd ever had. It felt like a pulse near the back and front of his head. Probably the fumes from the chemicals.

He stepped out on the first floor, heading towards the kitchen, looking around. The hall was crowded with people and scientists on break, chatting to each other and exchanging theories on different chemicals.

The smell of coffee hit him as he walked into the kitchen, making him wince. It was a bit too strong today.

"Hey, Jack."

"Hi, Jack. Hope you're feeling better."

He nodded to a group of people sitting at the table, going over to the counter and filling his cup. He could hear the group chattering behind him, blocking them out as he sipped at the coffee.

So far this job was the best he'd had...not counting the little chemical bath. The people were nice enough, they treated him fairly well.

_For now... What about the other night when I fell? I know there had to be someone around to hear me. Another late-night worker, a janitor, SOMEONE._

Jack sighed heavily, shaking his head. It was to be expected. He'd been treated poorly all his life by the city. The constant pushing, shoving, name-calling... Gotham could really dish out the pain.

_Why did it have to be me that fell? I've had a hard enough life as it is. Is it really too much to want to make people laugh? I haven't done anything wrong to anybody in this city._

He took another sip, glancing back idly as chairs scraped behind him. The group was leaving the room, talking as they went, their voices fading down the hall and leaving him alone in the kitchen.

"Why, Jon? Why?" Jack mumbled, hanging his head, sighing. He still couldn't believe it. It'd been four days since he'd read that article and he still just couldn't believe it. Jon had barely hurt an animal when they were little. He could remember the time that Jon had cried when he saw a cat get run over in the street.

A few minutes passed before he remembered where he was. He needed to get back to work and figure out why all his work had vanished in the blink of an eye.

Jack turned, heading out of the room, deep in thought again. He would just have to go on with his life without Jon now, even though it hurt badly to think of how he'd betrayed him like that.

He could hear muffled voices in another room as he walked back down the hall, tuning them out. His frustration for the program was growing, as was his headache. The pulsing was getting worse, or so it felt.

Trying to ignore the stabbing pain in his head, he slipped into the elevator and headed back to his workspace.

I I I

Jack headed out with a group of people as his shift ended. He stayed behind the group as they chattered and laughed at each other, feeling the need to be left alone.

"Hey, Jack, we're taking Frank's car, you want a ride?" a woman to his left asked him.

"No, thanks, I take the train." He slipped his jacket on, looking over at them. "It pretty much takes me right to my street."

"Okay, have a safe journey home then." The group walked off into the parking lot off the side of the chemical plant, laughing and talking.

Jack stood quietly for a moment, watching them, feeling saddened, then headed off through the lot towards the street, hoping he hadn't missed the night train. He stopped at the sidewalk, glancing back at the plant as it loomed in the night sky.

As bitter as his thoughts ran with his headache, it was a beautiful night out. The moon was high and full, and he could see bats flitting around in the air, racing after the bugs attracted by the parking lot lights. He could hear the crickets chirping somewhere in the weeds.

Jack paused. What used to be regular smells of the night now seemed...off, somehow. Any other night, he could smell the grass and stale food smells from the day. But now...for some reason, the smells seemed to disgust him. The grass smell made his stomach turn a little, and he could smell a bit of pollution from the chemical plant.

His eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion. It felt like he was being followed. Instead of looking over his shoulder, he moved off down the sidewalk, letting the feeling get a little stronger, then he whirled around, ready to defend himself.

There was no one there.

Jack blinked, looking down, eyebrows raising. A black cat stared up at him, it's golden eyes sparkling in the streetlight.

He stared at it, then shook his head, smiling. "You scared me, little guy."

The cat stared back up at him, then meowed, trotting off ahead of him, tail held high.

Chuckling, Jack, shook his head again, turning and heading off down the street again. He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets, looking around the city, frowning a little.

Gotham had never been much of a laughing city. Even as a child, he tried to get his parents' attention, but they never seemed to be there for him. They'd always seemed too busy. Jon had been the only one to laugh at his jokes and applaud for his simple card tricks.

_Gotham's a brutal city. All this city does is rob people of their spirit and drown them in sorrow. Everyone takes life too seriously. The only fun I see people having is when they're in the park, playing with their children or their dogs. Hmm. I should bring Midnight there tomorrow._

Jack sighed, trudging up the steps to the commuter train station. He glanced at the schedule, then leaned against the wall, waiting for it to arrive. He had a ten minute wait.

Sighing, he closed his eyes, resting his head back against the wall.

_Why did it have to be me that fell in the chemicals? My life is horrible. I'm constantly getting kicked around and.._

_And what?_

_And...wait. Why am I talking to myself?_

_Dunno. You're the one talking to yourself, not me._

_...huh?_

_You heard me._

_How am I talking to myself? _

_Why are you asking me? This is your head, you figure it out. _

_Just leave me alone... I want to sort out my thoughts..._

_Fine...but I'm not the one thinking you're crazy for talking to yourself._

Jack blinked, confused. What had just happened? Was he really just talking with himself? Or was it just him thinking up random thoughts to pass the time?

There was a screech farther down from the track and he looked up, watching as the train pulled into the station. He boarded the train as it stopped, taking a seat near the back of the car, surprised to see it was mildly crowded.

Three children ran back and forth, arms held out wide as they ran around the car, making airplane noises. A fourth child sat near his mother, playing quietly with a small raptor dinosaur. A ball sat in the crook of the child's knee, bouncing gently as the train pulled out of the station.

Jack sat to himself, watching the kids play their airplane game, quiet. Again, it made him think of the games him and Jon had played on the train when they'd been kids.

Sudden movement caught his eye and he glanced over towards the fourth child. He was snatching at his ball as it rolled from his legs, rolling down the treads towards Jack's feet.

Jack picked it up and leaned over, handing it back to its owner. The little boy smiled up as him and he smiled back. As he backed up to his seat again, he saw the mother was giving him a funny look.

He drew back into his seat, quiet, not sure what she was staring at. The child stared up at him, smiling, then frowned when his mother pinched him hard in the shoulder.

Jack felt...miffed. He felt miffed at what the mother had just done. There was nothing wrong with him. He was just like everyone else.

_Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. Maybe this mother is just protective of her son. I could be getting upset over nothing._

He sat quietly, staring out the window, glancing over as movement caught his attention again. The mother was whispering to her son, giving Jack an almost fearful look.

"But mom, he gave me my ball back! There's nothing wrong with him!" the little boy whined softly.

"Daniel, look at him," his mother replied in a hushed tone. "He looks really sick. I don't want you to get sick either." She scooped her son up, pushing him down the car to the other end and settling down again.

He glared out the window, fists clenching at his sides. There was nothing wrong with him.

But then he caught his reflection in the window as they passed in the shadow of a building. He did look...paler. Maybe it was just the way the lights were in the train car though...

_Do you seriously believe that?_

_Well, why not? The lights are always weird on here._

_Hmph. You're kidding yourself._

Again, that voice was in his head. It was enough to drive anyone crazy.

Jack sighed, crossing his arms and glaring out the window, hoping they'd soon reach his street. He was getting a bit tired of watching the boys race back and forth through the car, and he was still a bit mad that the mother had moved for no good reason. All he'd done was give that boy his ball back.

_Nothing but bad luck all my life. And people still don't give me a chance. All I did was hand him his ball back. Was that really so bad? _

He barely reacted when the conductor called out the streets, standing and stretching before moving through the doors at a fast pace. He could hear the boys carrying on still as the doors shut behind him.

Out in the moonlight now, Jack looked back as the train pulled away, then held out his hands for a closer look. The mother had been right. His skin was a bit paler than what it had been earlier that day.

Worry came over him as he bit his lip, moving off at a brisk pace down the street, heading towards his house. He needed to see himself in a mirror to be sure.

He reached his house with no problems this time, quickly pulling out his keys and racing inside. Midnight jumped up from the floor as he raced into the living room.

"Hi, Midnight," Jack wheezed, racing to the bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror. He grew still, a bit surprised and a bit amazed as well.

His eyes were much redder than what they'd been and his skin had paled quite a bit. Indeed, he looked as though he'd been sick for a few days.

"What's going on with me?" he asked no one but himself. "Is this from the chemicals? Or am I really sick and just don't know it?"

He studied his reflection carefully. His eyes looked a lot more bloodshot and his skin had taken on an odd color, but other than that he felt fine. In fact, he felt pretty good.

He paused suddenly, hearing a very faint giggling. He whirled, expecting someone to be standing out of sight of the bathroom, but when he stuck his head out and looked around, no one was there.

"Hello?" Jack stepped out, shutting off the light, and looking around. "Anyone here?"

He looked over at Midnight. The German shepherd was sitting by his chair, watching him, tongue hanging out and panting. If someone else was in the house, Midnight would be on them in an instant. He scratched his head, puzzled, then shrugged it off.

"We've been watching too many horror movies, buddy." He walked over to the dog and ruffled the fur on his head, sitting down in the chair. The dog tilted his head, ears perking up again, whining softly. "Okay, okay."

Jack stood back up, walking into the kitchen and opening up the cabinet door. There was a rapid clicking of nails on the floor as Midnight raced in after him. He smiled, pulling out the dog food and showing him.

Midnight wagged his tail, jumping up at the bag, sniffing and whining.

"Alright, alright, here you go." He opened the bag and poured in a bowlful, watching as the dog dove his face into it, chomping away.

He watched the dog, smiling, then headed over to the pantry, pulling out a bag of chips, moving back into the room. He picked up the remote, sitting down in the chair, clicking the tv on, smiling.

Jeff Dunham, his favorite, was on.

A moment later and Midnight joined his master at his side, licking the crumbs off his black lips. He settled down beside the chair, putting his head down on his paws.

Jack munched on the chips, occasionally handing the German shepherd a handful as he watched the comedy program, enjoying himself. The headache had receded to a dull throbbing and he never gave it a second thought as he watched the show with his furry companion. He didn't even care for the moment that his eyes looked bloodshot and his skin tone had changed.

I I I

Yes, I know it's been a while since I've updated. I've been having a huge blank time period and I couldn't think of what to write. But now I'm getting back into it. I've already started the 5th as well now.


	5. A Smile A Day

**Chapter 5: A Smile A Day**

Jack decided to take Midnight to the park the next day after all. He thought it'd be a nice way to relax before he went to work and his dog needed to be walked for the day.

Midnight panted happily as he led the way down the sidewalk, trailing Jack behind him on the leash. He wagged his tail, sniffing around curiously, sticking his nose in bushes and flower pots along the way as they passed houses and apartments.

"Slow down, Midnight. We don't want to run into anyone." Jack fixed his sunglasses on his nose, pushing them back up.

In order to deal with his new look, he'd simply thrown on some sunglasses to hide his eyes and at the moment, he was wearing a white t-shirt to hide his paler skin and black pants. Hopefully no one would take notice to the slight change of skin tone.

Midnight barked, pulling at his leash, trying to get to a flock of pigeons pecking around on the sidewalk. He danced impatiently, trying to pull ahead of his master.

"No, you don't, boy. We're sticking to a reasonable pace today." Jack sighed, pulling back on the leash again, making sure the dog couldn't get away from him. He shifted a black duffel bag on his shoulder as the pigeons took off.

A couple passed them on the sidewalk, moving out of the way as Midnight sniffled along a wall, tail wagging madly. The woman reached out, brushing her hand over the fur as they passed.

Jack looked around the city as they made their way to the park. It was another brilliant day out. He could see and hear the birds in the tree and whenever they flitted around in the air, the weather was beautiful for a walk, and he could smell a vendor on the other side of the street selling hot dogs. He caught a whiff as the wind shifted the smell towards them, wincing a little. Much too strong.

A little girl suddenly raced out of the house ahead of them, running down the sidewalk, looking over her shoulder. Jack saw the collision well before he could stop it.

The girl crashed into the German shepherd with a cry and Midnight yelped in surprise.

"Are you okay?" Jack went over to her, helping her up. She looked up at him, eyes wide, then looked down at the dog.

"I'm sorry, I should've been watching where I was going." She looked back up at him again, pausing. "I should really get to my friend's house. She's waiting for me." Without another word, the girl sidestepped around them, racing off down the street and out of sight.

Jack sighed, shaking his head as his dog looked up at him. "Is it really that noticeable?"

Midnight peered up at him, chuffed, then trotted off down along the street again, Jack in tow.

I I I

Jack pushed his sunglasses up onto his forehead as they reached the park, looking around. Everywhere, there were dogs playing with their owners, children playing on the playground, and some fathers teaching their kids how to fish over at the pond. Maybe he could sit in peace after he played with Midnight for a while.

Midnight whined, looking at all the other dogs, pulling at his leash again, eager to play. He moved back and forth impatiently, looking back at Jack

"Okay, okay. You want to play frisbee for a while?" He pulled a frisbee from the duffel bag, holding it up for the dog to see. "Okay, let's play." He unclipped the leash from the collar and threw it as hard as he could.

The German shepherd took off as fast as his legs could carry him, streaking across the grass after the toy. He leaped, catching it in his mouth and landing, turning and racing back.

Jack smiled, ruffling the fur on his head, taking the frisbee and throwing it again Midnight shot off after it once again.

After a few tosses, Jack pulled a ball from the bag, throwing it as far as he could. The dog happily obliged in chasing after it and bringing it back, tail wagging.

An hour later, Jack was sitting on a park bench, watching the other dogs. He was sitting under a shady tree so he could take his glasses off without anyone noticing. Midnight lay by him on the ground, panting and looking around.

"So, Midnight, did you have fun here?" he asked, looking down at the dog.

The furry head turned to look up at him, tongue hanging out, ears perked up.

"Good. You ready to head home so I can go to work?" Another tilt of the head. "Okay, let's go." He bent down, clipping the leash to the purple collar, then stood, slipping his sunglasses back on. Midnight stood with him, wagging his tail, then started off out of the shade.

"Hey, buddy, where you going?" Jack paused, turning to look back, feeling panic well up. "Yeah, that's right, I remember you."

It was the biker dude from the other night. He looked bigger than Jack remembered.

"You look different, freak. Something about you is different." He stepped closer, getting a closer look at Jack. "Yeah, you look sick. Been feeling sick lately, punk?"

"Hey, I don't want any trouble..." Jack turned his hands up, showing him he didn't want to fight.

The man pushed his sleeves up, giving Jack a glare. "Yeah? Well I'm giving you trouble anyway." He swung a punch hard at Jack's face, growling.

Jack narrowed his eyes, feeling something bubble up inside him. A small smirk flitted across his lips as he jumped back, the punch missing. He quickly blocked another one aimed for his gut, only stopping the blow so it wouldn't hit. The sunglasses fell off his face as his body shook from the blocked impact.

The man went to go for another swing when a big black blur leaped up on him.

Midnight snarled and growled, attacking the man's arm, teeth breaking the skin and shaking his head. The man cried out, bringing his fist down hard on the dog's back, barely budging the canine.

"Midnight, no, let go!" Jack yelled, tugging hard on the leash. He could still feel that feeling lurking deep in him and it scared him badly. He just wanted to get home now.

_Let him take a good bite out of this guy. It'll teach him a lesson. _

_What...what is going on?_

_Just do it. React now, questions later._

Jack watched as his dog pulled away from the man, barking viciously, ears laid back. The man backed away, holding his arm, glaring at both of them.

"You're dead, freak, you hear me? Dead!" He turned and marched away quickly, glaring at the people who'd come close enough to watch. "What're you looking at!"

Jack watched him walk away, breathing hard, then dropped to his knees, hugging the dog. "I think you saved my life, boy."

The crowd soon scattered once they saw the fight was over, chattering amongst themselves in low voices.

Jack kept his arms around the dog's neck, frowning. He caught bits of what they were saying and most of it wasn't good.

"Freak..."

"Creepy...did you see his skin?"

"The big guy attacked first..."

"What was wrong with that guy? He let the dog attack him!"

"He didn't call his dog off..."

"What a FREAK..."

_What is going on with me? I've never been that quick to block punches before. Am I losing my mind over nothing? I'm finally starting to defend myself!_

A moment of silence passed, then he heard what he least wanted to.

_Liar. You know it wasn't just that. You took karate lessons as a teen to defend yourself against crap like this. You were forced to fight, now you're remembering. _

_Am I really? Or is this something new?_

_Guess you'll have to find out, won't you?_

Jack stood, sighing, petting Midnight on the head fondly. The dog stared up at him, blood on his teeth and lips.

"We better get you cleaned up before I head off, boy." He tugged on the leash, picking up the duffel bag and walked off down the pathway heading towards the gates.

_Freak...that's what they called me. A freak. Just because I look different now. Well, personally, I don't mind it. I wasn't feeling good after I fell, so maybe this is just a bad side effect of what those chemicals did. I should be back to normal in no time. _

_Do you honestly believe that? You're just trying to fool yourself. The chemicals did something, you're just not sure what. You're trying to slip into denial._

_So what? I'm fine right now. If something happens, I'll check into a hospital and have a doctor look at me. _

_Oh please. Cut the crap. You were happy Midnight took a bite out of that guy, aren't you?_

_...so what if I am? The guy deserved it, after two attempted beatings._

_I quite agree with you._

Jack led Midnight out of the park, keeping the dog close to him, not sure what else was lurking around the corners. If someone decided to jump him, Midnight could fend them off in a heartbeat.

"Do you still love me boy? Everyone else seems to hate me. First those arrogant teens who cost me my longest lived job, that biker punk, and now I'm getting odd looks just because I'm slightly different." He sighed, rubbing at his eyes again. The itching was starting to come back and it felt like his headache was coming back too.

Midnight looked back at him and whined, tail tucked low.

"I know you do. Well, let's get home. Your muzzle is covered in blood."

They walked off down the street, Jack keeping his head held low. He'd forgotten the sunglasses at the park, but the way he was feeling now, he didn't feel it was best to go back for them. He'd just keep his head down until he got home.

_Why? There's nothing to be ashamed of. So your skin's slightly paler and your eyes are bloodshot. That doesn't make you a freak. _

_But look at me. This is only making my problem worse._

_Worse? Or better? Think about it. You can show these people you're not afraid by lifting your head high and being who you are. _

_Really? I've never really stood up to anyone before._

_Well, what do you call that back at the park?_

_Midnight did most of it._

_But you blocked the punches. Midnight only leapt up to protect you before he could get a good swing in._

"Hey, freak! Why don't you take your dog home and get off the streets!"

Jack paused, looking over to the other side of the street. A spark of anger flashed in him. It was the punk teens again, Jake and what's-her-name.

"Yeah, man! Didn't we trash you enough the other day?" the boy named Jake laughed at him.

"Did you like the wind the other day?" the girl howled back at him.

"Ooh, nice one, Tricia!"

Midnight gave a low growl, ears flattening halfway, sensing trouble from the two. Jack rested a hand on the dog's head to calm him, then looked back over at the troublemakers.

"I have just as much a right as anyone else to walk the streets. You people just don't learn, do you? You can't boss and trash your way with anyone you come across."

Jack turned without a second look, heading back down the street, hearing the two jeer after him. He ignored them, deep in thought, glad Midnight wasn't trying to pull ahead at the moment. For once, the dog was walking by his side.

_Something needs to be done about people like that. It's not right for them to treat people this way._

_Then why not do something? Get them to stop._

_I could never do that. I don't do confrontations._

_Then you're a yellow coward. You're a dog who always shows his belly at the first signs of trouble._

_Shut up!_

_You know I'm right._

Jack shook his head, wincing; that headache was back again, even worse this time. Where was this coming from?

_Shouldn't I have had a worse reaction to what's happening to me?_

_Why would you? All that happened was you look a little sick, that's all. In a few days it'll clear._

_But what if it doesn't?_

_You're going into denial again. Or are you?_

_...what?_

The voice quieted again and Jack stopped on the sidewalk, frowning. Was it really himself he was talking to anymore?

_Maybe not. Those chemicals could've done anything to me. Maybe it's just bringing out an inner me. _

He shook his head, starting off again as Midnight panted alongside him. The headache was making his mind whirl and making it hurt. He needed to avoid confusing thoughts while it was around.

Jack slipped his keys out as they reached the front door, unlocking it and opening it, unclipping the leash from the dog's collar. Midnight raced off into the house, jumping up onto the chair, waiting for his master.

"Hey, now, off the chair, big boy. That's my chair." He smiled, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him.

Midnight chuffed at him as Jack walked into the kitchen, wagging his tail and tilting his head.

Jack returned a moment later with a wet washcloth, shaking his head. "Let's get you cleaned up, Midnight."

I I I

Two weeks passed before Jack noticed any other changes. When he did, he was a bit frightened this time.

It took him a while to figure it out, since the voice hadn't bothered him in all that time, but when he did, he was surprised. He'd been forgetting to brush his teeth, which struck him as just plain odd. He'd never forgotten before.

And something else was off about him.

"Why is this happening to me?" Jack bit his lip, staring into the mirror. A paler, redder-eyed version stared back at him. His hair roots had darkened to a color he couldn't quite tell yet, but he knew it hadn't been there before.

Midnight whined out in the room, scratching his paw at the bathroom door, trying to get in to his master.

Jack pressed his hands up against the mirror, tears swimming in his eyes. He'd thought the skin tone problem would go away, but all it did was get worse. Now he really _did_ look like a freak.

He leaned in closer to the mirror, spotting something, pulling his eyelids open to see better. His once-green irises were no more. They'd yellowed, the pupil nearly swallowed in the color.

_I should really get to a hospital. Maybe they can figure out what's wrong with me._

_Why? They might take one look at you and ship you off to Arkham. You'd be stuck with the crazies then._

_But I could get help!_

_All they'll do is call you a freak and ship you off. Don't even bother. They don't care. They never did. _

"What should I do?" he hissed at himself, then paused. His voice sounded...higher.

"WHAT AM I!" he screamed, the sound scaring him even more, smashing his fist into the glass, shattering the corner. He put his head in his hands, resting his arms on the edge of the sink, crying quietly.

His voice had definitely changed. It didn't sound like him anymore. First it had seemed higher than normal. Now, when he'd yelled, it'd sounded deeper...and darker.

Jack turned, throwing the bathroom door open, storming past Midnight and throwing himself down into the chair, putting his hands over his face.

_This is the chemicals, there's no doubt now. My throat and lungs felt like they were on fire when I'd fallen in that tank. That stuff tasted horrible going down, it's a wonder I wasn't killed._ _They must've warped my vocal cords or something somehow. _

His mind spun with nauseating thoughts, trying to figure out what was happening to him. How far would this go before it stopped? Or worse yet, what if it never stopped?

Midnight whined softly, coming over and resting his head on the armrest, watching his master. His ears were back again, in worry.

Jack sighed heavily, lowering his hands, looking at the dog miserably. "What should I do, buddy? Maybe they would just send me to Arkham if they took one look at me... Jon was the only person I could trust and look at him now. He's locked up."

Midnight whined at him, perking his ears up, then laying them back again, tail tucked between his legs. He licked at Jack's hand, whining softly.

Jack scratched him behind the ears, trying to decide what to do.

_What can I do? If I go back to work, I'll only be made fun of. But if I don't, I'll lose my job. And I can only take off so many sick days._

_Have fun with it. Just go back, act like nothing's wrong. Gotham sees you as a sick man now. That shouldn't stop you from working._

_But the hurt...all they'll do is hurt me._

_So hurt them back then._

_I can't do that! What are you, crazy?_

_Maybe. But maybe I'm just a figment of your imagination that you've created to deal with this problem._

_I'm not sure anymore... What should I DO? My voice is changing!_

_Just go back to work. Act like nothing happened. If they ask questions, just tell them you feel sick. _

Jack bit his lip, listening to that voice. Maybe he should go back. He didn't want to lose his job over something like this. Besides, it's not like he was in actual pain, besides the headaches that had frequently been turning up.

"Okay, Midnight. I'm still going. They'll just have to get over it."

He stood, rubbing the German shepherd behind the ears again then headed out the front door, shutting and locking it behind him.

I I I

When he arrived at the chemical plant, the whole filing room was clamoring with noise. Melanie was talking with Steve, laughing. Steve was wiping tears from his eyes.

"What's going on?" Jack asked, going over to his desk, looking around.

The whole room grew quiet, watching him and Jack felt his heart sink deeply. It was that noticeable... Everyone seemed to avoid looking at him right away, looking at the floor, ceiling and at each other.

Steve cleared his throat, looking over at him. "We're telling jokes. Every year we have certain days for certain things. Today is Joke Day."

Jack forced himself to smile, sitting down in his chair, shaking his head. "Jokes, huh? Let's hear one."

Melanie pulled up a chair, sitting down in it, smirking, looking at Steve. Jack smirked, crossing his arms, leaning back in his chair.

"Okay, uh..well, this one is more of a little story. A man, who has a head for a son, takes him to the local bar. He orders a drink for him and his son. As his son drinks the glass, he astonishingly grows a torso. Amazed, the father orders another round for him. Again, the son drinks and this time he grows arms," Steve said, smiling. "The father, amazed again, orders one more round and this time the son grows legs. The whole bar has grown quiet now, seeing this miracle. Delighted and amazed, the father orders his son a whiskey. The son drinks it...and POOF. He's gone."

Jack tilted his head, smiling. "What happened?"

Steve grinned at both of them. "The bartender looks at him, shakes his head. The father looks at him, demanding what happened to his son. The bartender gives him a look, shakes his head again, then replies...'Well, he should've stopped drinking while he was a head!' "

All three cracked up, tears rolling down their cheeks. Melanie burst into giggles, leaning in her seat. Jack and Steve laughed even harder as her chair tipped, spilling her onto the floor.

"That was a great one!" Melanie gasped, still laughing, standing and setting the chair back up.

Steve grinned at them, holding his hands up. "The radio gets the credit. I heard it this morning on my son's heavy metal station." He looked over at Jack. "You have any good ones?"

Jack smiled, resting his chin on his hands, thinking.

"Well...I know some, but I don't think they're that funny."

"No, no, c'mon, Steve told you his," Melanie giggled, waving a hand at him.

"C'mon, Jack, every joke is welcome here." Steve settled back into his chair, folding his hands over his chest. "Spill."

"Well...okay." Jack bit his lip, thinking. "What do you call a guy with no legs or arms in the ocean?"

Steve looked at the ceiling, eyes narrowed, then he looked back over at him. "Dunno. What would you call him."

Jack smiled, watching them. "Bob."

This brought on fresh laughter from the two, others that had been listening to them joining in as well.

"Wow, that was good!" a man over by the wall called to them. "More, more!"

Jack was quiet a moment, thinking of one he'd heard a long time ago. He'd first heard it in his childhood, one of the rare times his father had hung out with his toddler son for a day.

"Okay, I know one my father told me... But this was years ago, so I'll try to get it right." He was silent a moment, then took a breath.

"A patient is talking to her doctor. The doctor says 'I have some bad news and worse news.' " The patient, horrified, says to him, 'What's that bad news?' 'Well,' the doctor says, 'you have cancer and only twenty-four hours to live.' 'Oh, dear!' the woman cries out. 'If that's the bad news, what could possibly be worse?' The doctor looks at her and says, 'Well, I've trying to reach you since yesterday!' "

Jack was met with scattered laughs and chuckles and he cringed horribly inside. This was not the reaction he'd been expecting...

Steve bit his lip hard, staring at Jack. Melanie had her hand over her mouth, giving him a funny look.

The man over by the wall shook his head. "Dude, that's...that's not cool."

Jack hung his head in shame, looking away from them all, eyes wide. He stared down at the floor, horrified at what he'd done.

Melanie and Steven came over to him, shooing the others away from him, talking in hushed voices, telling them to get back to work. Steve pulled his chair over to him.

"Why would you joke about your condition?" he whispered.

"It's not right, Jack," Melanie agreed, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Please, don't mind the stares. We didn't want to bother asking you before you told us."

Jack stared at them blankly, then realized what they were talking about.

_They think I have cancer?_

_Well, of course. Look at yourself. You look like you went through chemo gone wrong or something. Consider yourself lucky you had some contacts lying around the house to hide your eyes._

_But...cancer?_

_Hey, whatever keeps them off the real deal._

Jack bit his lip again, then looked at the floor. "I didn't want everyone to freak out."

Steve shook his head at him and Melanie elbowed Steve hard, glaring, before turning back to Jack.

"We didn't want to be the first ones to say anything. We didn't think it'd be right."

Jack looked back up at them, then sat up in his chair. No one had a clue what had really happened, they all thought it was something worse...

_But what if it IS cancer? Just a new strange strain?_

_Oh, please. You'd know if it was cancer._

"You know what, Jack? I think you should take the day off. I'll go tell Mr. Harris." Steve stood, breezing out the door.

Melanie turned to Jack again, tears in her eyes. "You're so brave to go through this. Keep fighting, Jack." She turned, heading back over to her desk.

Jack blinked, then narrowed his eyes, a thought occurring to him. If Jon was ever to escape Arkham like some of the other crazies did, wouldn't he come looking for Jack?

_It might be time to find a new place..._

_Stay put. Don't arouse suspicion yet. If things get bad, then move. Not until then. You're still in the clear._

_But what if Jon gets out?_

_Don't worry about him. If he got out, you'd have a warning because it'd be on the news. Just go home, relax, have fun with your day off again._

_...fine. _

Jack stood, sighing, heading out of the room. A few people nodded solemnly at him as he passed, others mumbling words of encouragement. He stepped out onto the walkway, glancing down at the chemicals.

Those chemicals had brought him nothing but trouble, why should he listen to that inner voice? But on one side...it really seemed to pull him in the right direction. If it hadn't taken over in the park, Jack might've been killed by that biker.

"Why is it that I'm listening to it like this? Yes, it's been leading me straight but..."

_But, what, Jacky?_

There it was again. A quiet giggling in his mind, almost childish.

_Go away, leave me alone._

_Can't, Jacky. I'm part of you now. You know those headaches? That's me when I come to visit you. You know, you have a very interesting mind._

Jack headed over the walkway, slipping inside the elevator as it took him down.

_Really, how so?_

_You've sorted your thoughts out for years. Why, you even have the beginnings of a place to keep them. Maybe I can help make it easier to sort them out..._

_...how?_

_It's called an idea factory. Basically, the way you have yours set up, in files, they just need a place to stay. I can help you with that..._

_Fine, fine, whatever. Do whatever you want, just leave me alone..._

He heard giggling again as he headed out of the plant, slightly louder, then felt the corners of his mouth twitch. It took him a moment to realize HE was the one giggling and grinning.

I I I

XD I think Jacky's really starting to lose it now... That voice just will not go away and it never will. I know I revamped the patient/doctor joke, but I figured it'd fit him pretty well.


	6. Voices Pt 2

**Chapter 6: Voices Part 2**

_What to do, what to do, what to do..._

Jack paced back and forth in his bedroom, unable to keep a small grin from his face. Every time he tried, a thought from his Jeff Dunham show or a joke would come to mind and he'd crack up again.

Midnight watched from the bed, eyes moving back and forth as he followed his master's movement. He whined softly, giving his tail a slow wag.

_Just go out, Jacky. You need some fresh air to clear your head._

_But what about ME? That run-in with the biker was too close this time. If it wasn't for Midnight..._

_If it wasn't for Midnight, you would've fought him yourself. Or, being the coward you are, you most likely would've run._

_Shut up!_

_I'm here to stay, Jacky. _The voice let out a bubbly giggle in his mind, making the corners of his mouth twitch again. _Trust me. Just go outside for a while. Fresh air does everyone good. _

Shadows crept across the floor and walls as the sun began to set behind the city buildings. It took him a moment to realize he'd stayed in his room all day, pacing.

_But what would I wear? I stick out so much now..._

_...what about the black hoodie in your closet? You only wore it once years ago, it should still fit. _

_I don't know... _

_Trust me. Have I steered you wrong yet?_

Jack paused, thinking it over. True, the voice in his head hadn't steered him the wrong way yet. And if there happened to be trouble, it might take over again and guide him through it with ease.

He looked over at the mirror, staring at the smirking being staring back. Walking closer, he narrowed his eyes, spotting something he hadn't seen earlier.

There were faint black shadows around his eyes.

_What is going on? I feel like I should be worried, but now I don't really care anymore. I'm not in actual pain, so there's no worry there. Would anyone else be calm about this sort of condition if they had it?_

_Go out, Jacky. Get your hoodie and go._

Jack sighed, heading over to his closet and searching around a little bit. He found the black hoodie in a box buried on the floor, pulling it out and slipping it on. It was still large on him, but it made him feel better. He pulled the hood up over his head, hiding most of his face.

"Stay here, Midnight. I'll be back soon." He looked at the dog, then left the room, jogging down the stairs and out the door, locking it behind him.

It was another clear night out. The moon was full, casting light on the street that did more than what the streetlights did. The flapping sound of bat wings was heard just out of sight of the lights, faint shadows dipping here and there in the light.

He smiled, walking down the street, looking around. There was barely anyone out and that was the way he wanted it.

There was a rattle of trash cans and a lid rolled out in front of him, making him stop, cautious.

Jack narrowed his eyes, tilting his head, feeling something well up in him again. He stood still, listening to the night.

Fluttering bat wings and chirping crickets.

He moved off, listening intently, his body tensing up, shoulders hunching. There was an odd feeling in the air, almost like danger. Or the feeling of being...

_Followed. I'm being followed._

Jack felt the feeling well up again, almost dancing impatiently as he walked, a little surprised. It almost felt like...excitement. Why would he be excited? He didn't want to be followed.

_Don't worry, Jacky. I'm here. Whatever comes at you, I'll help. Just keep walking, don't look back, just keep your mind clear and let the adrenaline do the rest. _

He kept going, liking the way this voice talked to him. It made him feel calm, it made him feel better that whatever was coming, he wouldn't deal with it alone.

_True, I used to work out at the gym a few years ago_ _and took karate lessons, but what if that biker shows up? Or what if he has buddies? I could be in real trouble._

_Relax, Jack. Just keep going. and let me do the rest. You'll be fine._

Again, there was a soft giggling in his mind, even louder this time, making him cringe. He didn't like that laugh, it sounded dark and cruel.

_I'm here, Jacky, I'll help you through this. Just keep walki- JUMP!!_

Jack lunged to the side as the crowbar flew out at him from the alley. He backed away, looking into the shadows as a group stepped out. He frowned. The punk teens Jake and Tricia were leading the group, smiles on their faces.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Jake jeered, hefting a baseball bat up onto his shoulder.

"You know what?" Tricia said, leaning closer to Jack. "I think it's the freak from yesterday."

Jack studied them warily, taking in the group. There was at least five or six kids, most wielding some sort of weapon. He tilted his head down, peering out at them from under the hood.

"I think you're right, Tricia. And look. He's not running away." Jake and two others moved off around him as Tricia and her group circled him from the other side.

_What do I do, what do I do?! They're gonna kill me!_

_Let me handle this._

_But I don't want to hurt them..._

_LET ME HANDLE IT._

Jack kept a wary eye on them as he quickly thought it over. A second later, before he could even react, a calmness washed over him and he turn to face the group again, smiling a little.

"What's wrong, freak? Cat got your tongue?" one of the others sneered, carrying the crowbar.

"He's probably too scared to even call for help," Tricia sniggered, pulling out a switchblade.

Jack smiled at them pleasantly, tilting his head to the side. "What's black and blue and red all over?"

The group stared at him, then started laughing.

"He's telling jokes now!" another boy howled, leaning on his metal pipe.

"What a time to tell them, too!" Jake giggled madly.

One of the other girls cleared her throat, still giggling, then stepped closer to him, her hands empty.

"I don't know, what is it?" she sneered, grinning up at him.

Jack smiled down at her, pulling his hood back to show her his face. "You."

The girl's eyes widened in shock as he grabbed her by the shirt front, turning and throwing her into her buddies. They all cried out, trying to get back up as Jack jumped away from a knee blow. He landed back on the sidewalk in a half-crouch, at the ready, watching them.

"Get him!" Jake screamed, pushing his comrades off him. They staggered to their feet, rushing towards him, yelling with weapons at the ready.

He watched them come at him, suddenly darting to the left, elbowing Tricia in the side, knocking her into one of the other girls. The boys turned on him, landing blows to his back and arms.

"Freak! Go back to where you came from!" one of the boys yelled, trying to sink a knife in his leg.

Jack moved back and forth swiftly, feeling a bubbly sensation rising from his gut. The corners of his mouth started twitching madly as he slipped side to side, avoiding different blows, blocking punches and throwing them right back at the punk teens. He saw the group shudder when laughter burst from him, deep and dark.

Tricia watched him, then looked over at Jake, uncertain. "Yo, maybe we shouldn't pick a fight with him."

Jake snarled, looking from her to Jack. "No, he dies. You saw what he did to Maria." He lunged for him, swinging the baseball bat at his head.

The bat came at him like it was in slow motion. He watched it calmly, watching as things speeded up again, merely stepping to the side; Jake staggered past him with a cry of surprise. He grabbed the bat near the top, glaring and grinning at Jake, pressing his face into his.

"You shouldn't treat people like this... You hurt others. You kids need to cheer up." He jerked the bat out of the teen's hands, then swung it hard into his nose, receiving a sharp crack and a thin stream of blood flying. Jake howled, turned tail and ran off back into the alley, screaming about his broken nose.

Jack let the bat slide in his hand, holding onto the handle, turning to look at the others. They shrunk back and quickly scattered into the alley after Jake.

Exhaustion swept over him as he slowly calmed down, breathing hard, staring at the alley way. He turned, pulling the hood back up over his face, letting the bat fall to the ground and making his way back towards his house.

_What just happened? I saw it happening, but I couldn't stop it._

He giggled madly, stumbling a little on the sidewalk, trying to keep a straight path.

_Did you see them run?! They ran like little babies! _

Jack felt tears welling up as he laughed, trying to control it. But the voice was right. They'd scattered like sheep.

_You did it, Jacky! You stood up to your tormentors! A job well done!_

_I...I did, didn't I? _

He could feel tears running down his cheeks as he reached the doorway, unlocking it and crashing inside, landing on his back, laughing wildly.

_You did it, you did it!_

_I did it, I did it! I finally stood up to them!_

His stomach was starting to hurt, he was laughing so hard. But he didn't want to stop. He was happy, he was THRILLED he'd finally stood up to those punky teens. They'd gotten what they'd deserved and they'd run off like a pack of dogs with their tails between their legs.

"That a boy, Jacky! You're standing up for yourself!" he screamed to himself, kicking the door shut. "I know I did! And it felt GOOD!"

Midnight came thundering down the stairs, attracted by his master's laughter. He sat at the foot of the stairs, whining softly, watching him, not sure what was wrong.

Jack rolled over, crawling over to the dog and hugging him around the neck tightly. "I did it, Midnight! I showed them! I'll show this city I'm not just some pushover!!"

He shrieked with laughter, collapsing on the floor again, rolling around a little. It felt good to laugh, it felt great to laugh, it felt...

_This city doesn't laugh. It doesn't smile. It's so dull. The city needs color, it needs comedy, it needs..._

_Say it, Jacky..._

_It needs....it needs..._

_SAY IT._

_It...needs...ME!!_

Jack burst into a fresh wave of laughter, eyes wide and unfocused, curling up into a fetal ball and rocking back a forth slightly. His stomach was starting to cramp up, he felt a numbing pain in his head and then he knew nothing.

I I I

Jack woke up on the floor. He blinked, feeling his head spin as he tried to sit up, moaning. The headache was back, even worse than before.

"What...what happened?" He sat up, holding his head, looking around. He could see Midnight in the kitchen, seeing the hind legs and tail, hearing him crunching on something. "Midnight?"

He stood up, a little wobbly, then headed into the kitchen, blinking. "Midnight!"

The dog looked up at him from the torn food bag, licking his lips, then went back to the bag. He'd torn a large whole out of the side, spilling food all over the floor. His bowl was empty.

Jack started for him, then paused. What day was it? How long had he been out? Midnight had never dragged the food bag out by himself before, except for the time when he was a puppy when...

_When Jon forgot to feed him for two days when I went away._

He stood for a long time, watching the dog, then shook his head, walking over and taking the bag away. "Bad boy. You've had your share now."

Midnight moved away, wagging his tail and licking the crumbs off his lips, looking up at him as he set the bag on the table.

He sighed, looking over at the canine. "You made a big mess, you know that?" He went over to a drawer, opening it and pulling out some duct tape, taping the hole back together. He set the bag back in the cabinet, then scratched the dog behind the ears. "What day is today, Midnight? How long was I out? And why do I feel like a train hit me?"

Jack stared at Midnight for a moment, then walked off into the room, looking down at the hoodie he was wearing. There was a small dry path of something on the sleeve. He studied it, trying to figure out where it came from, quickly giving up. As old as the hoodie was, the mark could've come from anything.

"Why do I get the feeling I should be remembering something?" he mumbled to himself, sitting down in his chair, eyes narrowed in thought. "I remember coming home from work, pacing in my bedroom...then nothing."

"_You don't remember, Jacky? You stood up for yourself, that's what happened._"

"I did?"

"_Yes, you did_," the voice giggled, making Jack's mouth twitch again, even harder. "_You showed them you weren't a pushover_."

Midnight walked into the room, tilting his head at his master, quiet, listening to him.

Jack stood, smiling to himself as he went into the bathroom, leaving the door open. He peered into the mirror, staring at his reflection, blinking.

The shadows around his eyes had darkened, giving him a very haunted look and the color in his hair was more visible now. It almost looked like a bright green. And it'd spread throughout his hair now. He turned his head, looking at himself calmly.

His skin had no normal color to it now and his lips were bright red, making him wonder if it was because of his white skin or if that had really happened on its own. Red eyes stared back at him as he tried to make sense of this.

"This is...different."

"_But a very good different. We can show the city what comedy is,_" that other voice bubbled happily. "_Think about it. As a child, you loved the circus, you loved all those crazy clowns."_

"So...I'm pretty much a clown." Jack tightened his fists on the sink edge, grinning. "I always liked the clowns. They loved to make the audience laugh."

"_Gotham is much too dark, it needs color, it needs smiles, it needs laughter..."_

"Gotham always was a dreary city..."

There was a click of nails on the tile and Midnight stepped into the bathroom doorway, watching his master. He looked from Jack to the reflection in the mirror, watching his master talk to himself.

Jack looked back at Midnight, smiling at him. "It's okay, boy. I'm fine." He looked at his reflection again, deep in thought. Maybe it was about time to find a new place.

_Somewhere fit for you... Somewhere where you can laugh and play all you want. _

_I like that idea. This city is much too serious. Sure, there's joy and laughter in the park and in the occasional house, but no one truly LAUGHS anymore..._

_Get some sleep. Then worry about it. _

_Come to think of it, I am pretty tired. I don't really care what happened while I was out now. Midnight fed himself and no one broke into the house. That's all that matters._

He sighed, heading out of the bathroom and up the stairs, watching as Midnight raced past him and up onto the bed. Smiling, he ruffled the dog's fur before collapsing on the bed, out before his head even touched the pillow.

I I I

Midnight sat in a corner of the bedroom, whining, watching his master. The movement had been what had awakened him, not the noon sun, but when he saw his master, he felt fear. His master wasn't himself.

Jack was talking to himself, sitting on the floor over by a wall hidden in shadow, a red marker in his hand, scribbling over the wall. He'd made his way from one corner of the room to the other in a matter of minutes, grinning, his mind racing a mile a minute.

"No, we have to do the buckles here. Don't you know what crazy people wear?"

"_Well, at least not there. Look. The sleeves could be a festive purple, like Midnight's collar. Wait, no, that won't do...We need a design for the sleeves._"

"Stripes? Swirls?"

"_Ooh, I like that idea. Yes, that'll work. So the sleeves will be a light purple with dark_ _purple swirls. And the actual jacket..._"

"White?"

"_No, your skin is already chalk white. We need something to show that off...I got it. A tannish yellow._"

There were drawings all over the wall, reaching halfway to the ceiling. Most were different clothes designs, some just random scribbles like a jack-in-the-box. Others, like the one Jack was working on now, was a design for a custom straightjacket.

Midnight whimpered, trying to get his master's attention, tail tucked between his legs. He was worried for him and it scared him that Jack was acting so oddly. It wasn't like his master at all.

"Okay, that sounds good." Jack picked up a magazine from the floor and sat up against the other wall, flipping through it. "But what about another jacket? Like for more serious events."

"_Hmm...what about that tailcoat there on page 52? It's dressy, yet stylish."_

Jack nodded to himself, looking at the page. "That's what we'll do then. The jacket design looks easy enough to make. We'll just need the material then."

"_Why not just call it in? Or would you rather make it yourself?"_

"Hmm...I'll call the tailcoat in. The other jacket I'll make myself. Shouldn't be too hard."

"_Very well. But you'll need a new name once you move. You don't want people finding you so easily."_

"True. I'll have to give it some thought." He smiled at the idea, then felt the corners of his mouth pulling up even wider, a giggle escaping him. The giggle soon turned into laughter, echoing in the bedroom and scaring Midnight even more.

Jack paused, a thought coming to him. The voice in his head...it'd been around so long, but he'd never known who it was.

_What are you? Why did you come to me?_

_You're asking me that? Why, Jacky, I thought you were smart enough to know! I'm your inner clown._

_Inner clown?_

_Give it a moment to sink in. I've been here the whole time. Your parents didn't pay much attention to you, did they?_

_...no._

_Everyone but Jon picked on you, right?_

_Yeah...he was the only one who laughed, besides the other day when Melanie and Steve laughed._

_That's besides the point. Your parents told you to grow up when you were a child. They forced you out of your playful self before you were even seven and it got squashed. I'm that inner playful self, I'm that inner joker._

_Joker... I like that name. It really seems to fit. I'll make people laugh, they'll see. They'll see I'm funny, I'm not one to be messed with. _

_Joker, huh? I like the sound of that too. It fits you well, considering you look like a clown now. _

Jack giggled madly, thinking it over. "Joker" fit him very well.He looked over at the dresser mirror, catching the top half of his reflection. A pale-skinned, red-eyed...clown...stared back at him. He grinned even wider, imagining himself in the jacket he was thinking of creating. It seemed to work very well with his new appearance and it only made him happier.

He heard a soft whine behind him, startling him out of his thoughts, turning around.

Midnight whined at him again, laying on the floor, ears flat, watching his master. He whined again, thumping his tail back and forth on the carpet.

"You hungry, Midnight?" Jack asked, standing up and setting the magazine on the bed. He walked over to the dog, petting him on the head, then moved out of the room and downstairs, Midnight right behind him.

He walked into the living room, then paused, looking at Midnight. The German shepherd looked up at him quietly, tail between his legs.

"What's wrong, boy?" He reached out to pet him.

Midnight's ears flattened against his head as he took a small step back, pulling his upper lip a little to show his teeth and growled a little. Jack quickly withdrew his hand.

"What's the matter with you? I'm still me. You know me, Midnight." Jack stared at him, then glanced at his reflection in the hall mirror.

_I'm not me anymore... I'm different now. Midnight must not recognize me anymore..._

He felt his heart tug, a bit hurt. His German shepherd, who helped him through years of torment and pain, didn't recognize him anymore.

_This is going to be a problem. You might have to get rid of him._

_But Midnight's been with me for six years now! I can't just give him up._

_You have no choice. He might decide to turn on you and where would you be then? You'd only be hurt more. I say you take him to an animal shelter or something. _

_But he's my buddy..._

_Do you really want him to turn on you and hurt you as well? It's better to give him up then have him hurt you because he doesn't know you anymore._

_...you're right... I'll take him today. But I'll play with him in the park first. It'll be my last time with him._

_I'm fine with that. But make sure you cover yourself good. Gotham isn't ready for the new you quite yet._

Jack sighed, watching the dog miserably. Midnight had helped him through all the rough times and Jack had been there for him too, like the time a neighbor's bad-tempered rottweiler got loose and ripped into the shepherd's leg, breaking it.

"I'm so sorry I have to do this, boy... But I've no choice." He walked over to the doorway, pulling the leash off the hook on the wall and held out a hand to Midnight. "Would you like to go to the park one last time?"

Midnight looked up at him solemnly, ears slowly rising back up. He took a few cautious steps towards Jack, then let him clip the leash on, his tail still between his legs.

"C'mon, buddy. One last run around the park together." Jack felt tears in his eyes as he pulled the hood up over his head, making sure to hide his eyes. He opened the door and let Midnight lead the way.

The German shepherd panted happily as he trotted down the sidewalk, sniffing at flowers and snapping playfully at butterflies as they walked, his master's condition forgotten in his excitement.

Jack's head spun as he walked, watching the dog, thinking back on fond memories.

_Midnight raced through the park, catching frisbees and rubber balls, bringing them back to his master. He'd tackle him to the ground playfully, jumping around him, barking happily, tail wagging madly. _

_Midnight howling in pain as he tried to get around the house on a broken leg, his paw stuck in a cabinet door. Jack quickly came to the rescue and freed his paw, rubbing his belly and playing with him on the floor to make him feel better._

_Little floppy ears perking up and a sweet little furry face looking up at him out of a cage as Jack stared in at him, the only puppy left of the shepherd pups. He'd loved Jack at first sight and it was the same with his master. _

Jack wiped tears away from his eyes as they reached the park, trying not to cry. He'd enjoy the day while he could. It'd be his last with his best friend.

Midnight pulled at his leash, watching the other dogs play, whining and dancing impatiently. He looked back at Jack, giving him puppy eyes.

Smiling, Jack unclipped the leash and pulled out a frisbee from the hoodie pocket. "Fetch, boy!" He threw it as far as he could and the black dog took off as quick as he could after it.

I I I

Jack spent the next three hours playing with Midnight, chasing him around the park and racing through the shallow end of the pond with him. He let Midnight tackle him to the ground, the dog tugging on the back of his hoodie playfully. Midnight would bark, jumping to the side as Jack tried to catch him, laughing, as the dog always jumped out of reach, tail wagging.

"Midnight, you big softy! Get over here where I can reach you." He got to his knees, smiling, then tackled the dog before he could react, bowling him onto his side. Midnight barked, rolling to his back, wagging his tail and letting Jack rub his belly down.

No one seemed to take notice of Jack and he was fine with that. The hoodie hid his face well and the only thing that could give him away was his hands.

"Okay, boy. It's time to go." Jack stood, clipping the leash back onto his collar, ruffling the fur on his head and neck. He tugged on the leash, heading towards the gates and Midnight happily obliged, trotting ahead of him.

Jack looked around as they walked down the path. Parents playing with their children on the playground, people playing with their dogs in the open field, and he saw a father with his son and daughter at the pond feeding the ducks.

_Okay, so not all Gotham is cruel. These people take the time to hang out with their family, they take care to play with their kids._

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye as they reached the gates and glanced back, feeling dread in his heart. It was Jake.

_Keep going, Jacky. Ignore him. Don't let him know you saw, it'd be bad._

Midnight paid no heed to the teen walking behind them, trotting out onto the sidewalk as Jack followed.

The movement came swiftly from the left. Tricia leaped out at Jack from beside the wall, pulling out her switchblade and slicing it through the leash. Jake attacked Jack from behind, pulling him back and to the ground.

"This is for my nose, you creep!" Jake screamed at him, punching him hard in the gut.

Jack's eyes widened, looking over towards his dog. Tricia was kicking the German shepherd in the side, forcing him to run off into the street to get away as more of the gang showed up around him.

Midnight yelped in fear and pain, turning and racing out into the street, turning to look as he heard the honk of a horn. His ears flattened, freezing up as the car bore down on him.

There was a sudden silence in the park as the thud echoed out to the first fifty feet. Everyone near crowded around to see what had happened.

Jack faintly heard the gang laughing as Jake moved off him, gathering the gang. He saw them run off, jumping into the car and taking off around the dog. He got to his feet, heart pounding in his ears as he crept closer to the German shepherd.

Midnight lay in the middle of the street, unmoving, his head twisted at an odd angle. His eyes were open, his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

"Midnight..." Jack whispered, crouching in front of his friend. Tears burned in his eyes as they welled up, slipping down his cheeks and to the pavement.

A deep darkness welled up in him, burning through him, pushing the sadness away. He looked up towards the way the punks had taken off, fists clenching tightly. His body shook as he tried to keep the fury under control, glaring down at his dog.

The German shepherd didn't deserve what he'd gotten... Midnight had always been there for him, through the good times and bad.

He crouched, picking the dog's body up, carefully carrying him down the sidewalk, ignoring the gawks and stares of the crowd. Rage burned through him as he walked down the street, silent, the corners of his mouth suddenly twitching.

_Those teens... Those teens will pay dearly for what they did. Midnight was my only friend left and they took him away from me. This city did nothing good to me..._

_All they did was hurt you. All this whole city ever did was hurt you. Gotham let you fall. They betrayed you._

_Yes. But this time around, I'LL be the one laughing..._

I I I

Seriously, I had the biggest urge to cry when he chose to give up Midnight. I had to give up my three year old cat last November because of a problem he had and this only saddened me to write it. But it was to be expected for Jack. All it takes is one thing to make your mind snap.


	7. Memories

**Chapter 7: Memories**

Jack buried Midnight under the shade of the oak tree in his backyard that evening.

The German shepherd used to love racing around the old oak, even as a puppy. He'd once even somehow gotten his chain wrapped under one of the roots and it took Jack an hour to realize the pup had actually crawled into a hole under the tree, tangling himself.

He stared down at the mound of raised earth, feeling tears burn in his eyes. That dog had been his only friend besides Jon. Now both of them were gone. He was alone in the world with only one thing on his mind: hatred for the city.

Gotham let him fall. The city had been cruel to him his whole life, always being beaten down and shoved around, such as what those punks had done to him.

_I'll show this city I'm not some pushover. I'll show them true comedy._

_They'll pay for what they did. They killed Midnight all in fun. Behavior like that is punishable. They need to pay and dearly._

_Yes. And I think it's time to move. There will only be trouble if I stay here._

Jack turned, marching away from the tree and into the house. He looked around, wondering what to take with him, if anything.

_I should scout around the city for a good place to lay low for a while. The chemical plant thinks I have cancer. Hopefully if I disappear for a while, they'll assume the worst._

He felt rage sweep over him as he pulled the hood back up over his head, walking out the front door and making his way down the sidewalk. He slipped his hands inside the pockets, keeping his head down.

Sighing, he turned, creeping off down an alley. A black cat stared back at him from a dumpster as he passed, yowling at him and arching its back.

After an hour, Jack found himself in the old part of Gotham, where the buildings looked ancient and were falling apart. The area was populated, but not by many. Most of the houses in this district were rundown or abandoned.

He walked down the cracked sidewalk, looking around, getting an idea, stopping in front of an old warehouse.

The building seemed to be intact, with cracked and broken windows. It was a stone gray, with a black roof. A jester hat topped the building. A wooden arch with MONARCH written across it connected the warehouse to a rundown factory sitting next to it, most of the windows busted out.

Jack stared at the warehouse, deep in thought, smiling a little.

_This is perfect! I can stay here, as long as it's intact and no one's already using it. _

_It could be a good hideout so no one can find you. This district has only a small population living here, mostly lower class and junkies. It's perfect._

Jack stepped up onto a crate under one of the windows, putting his hands over his eyes to shut out the glare. The room inside was empty except for a few broken crates. No one was using it. He grinned, jumping down and looking around for anyone before pushing the door open.

The door opened with ease on creaky hinges and he stepped inside, looking around. It was bigger than he'd imagined.

The warehouse was huge inside, very roomy. A collection of crates lined one wall, some broken, but most seemed to be intact.

He moved around, looking up at the crates, seeing that there was at least three rows of them to the wall and they reached at least four rows high.

Looking around, he saw that the whole warehouse was full of fun house materials. A hall of mirrors near the back, leading through a hall. A giant clown head with cracked windows for eyes that might've once been on top of a carnival attraction. As he moved around the room, he looked up, spotting a small castle. He studied it, wondering what it'd once been used for.

_This is so you. This place just screams you. Look at it! It's got a great little playhouse and some of these crates are bound to hold some interesting toys. _

_Yes. It's the perfect place to stay. It hasn't been touched in years and no one should bother me out in this area. _

Jack looked around the warehouse, taking in everything. It was the perfect place to hide out for a while. He smiled, a giggle bubbling up from his gut as he looked around.

_Perfect in every way._

He walked around the castle, exploring, finding some open space along one of the walls. A Santa chair was leaning against the back wall, dusty from years of abandonment. He looked at the spot, thoughtful.

_Forget staying a while. I'm staying here the rest of my life. Look at all this stuff!_

_With a few changes, this place could be liveable. You could pull that chair out into that space, get a tv, you'd be set with a little living room area. _

_Hmm, but how would I get my stuff here without people noticing? Surely they'd see me walking down the street with it. _

_What not scrounge around? Who knows, maybe there is a tv here. Maybe it's just buried in those crates. _

Jack paused,thinking it over. He'd be abandoning his house, leaving whatever he didn't take with him behind. But no one would think to check for a while, would they? After all, he was a nobody in the city, someone who could be overlooked if he went missing.

_Go for it. No one would notice. You could slip away and no one would care. Soon, this city will see what you're capable of. _

_I'll be back soon, ready and strong. Gotham won't know what hit it. _

Jack turned, taking in all the sights again, smiling.He was a nobody that could slip away unnoticed.No one would care if he disappeared. After all, he'd been a nobody all his life, why should people start to care now?

He glanced at the castle once more before turning fully, heading out of the warehouse and carefully shutting the door behind him, looking around cautiously. No one around to see.

For once, Jack felt at peace in his mind. The voice was right. He could stay here where no one could bother him. Of course, he'd be leaving his home and everything that he wouldn't bring with him, but he felt okay with it.

He trudged down the street, keeping his head low, deep in thought.

Gotham City had brought him nothing but cruelty. All his life, he'd been ignored, beaten up, shoved around, and recently, forgotten.

_How can people do this to one another? They take enjoyment out of other peoples' torment and pain. This city is sick._

Jack glanced up as a woman walked past him. She was giving him a dirty look and something bubbled up in him. As she passed behind him, he moved over slightly, feeling her trip over his foot. He smirked as he heard the thud behind him, not looking back.

"Hey, you jerk!"

His smirk grew wider as he walked down the street, keeping to himself.

_Well, maybe it's not all bad. These people just don't let up. Someone has to make them pay._

Before he knew it, he was back at his house, blinking up at the door. How long had it taken him to get back? He'd just been in the old part of Gotham...hadn't he?

_Time flies when you're having fun, Jacky boy._

_Apparently so._

He took his keys out, unlocking the door and stepping inside. Immediately, he felt the loneliness creep in. There was no click of nails on the tile, no happy barking to greet him as he walked in the door.

Sadness filled his heart as he listened to the silence. It was too depressing.

Jack shook his head, feeling tears well up as he slowly marched upstairs, almost waiting for a black blur to race past him up the stairs. Nothing happened and he felt his heart sink even farther.

He stepped off the last stair, heading down the hall to his room. Opening the door, he stared at the short black hairs scattered all over his bed, feeling tears tracking down his cheeks.

No more barking, no more belly rubs, and most of all, no more friends.

Feeling shaky, Jack went over to his bed, sitting down and putting his head in his hands, sniffling. Jon and Midnight had been his only friends all his life. Both were gone now. Jon was insane and committed and Midnight was...

_Say it, Jacky. Don't let your sadness rule your heart._

And Midnight was dead.

He sighed, kicking his shoes off and pulling his hood down, flopping back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, folding his hands over his chest.

_What exactly am I now?_

_Well, take a look at yourself. You look like a clown to me._

_Yes, but what exactly is going on with me? I don't think I'd normally be thinking these thoughts._

_Normal? Who said you were normal?_

_...I thought I did._

_Not anymore. Those chemicals did something to you. You're appearance has changed. Now your attitude is changing._

_Is that really so bad?_

_You're the one who stuck up for yourself with those punks. I'd say that's a good thing. You could've been the coward and run away screaming._

_Shut up, I'm not a coward! _

_No...not anymore._

Jack bit his lip, watching the fan spin, glancing over at the doodles on the wall. He blinked. When had he done that?

He stared at them for a few minutes, trying to remember, then sighed, shutting his eyes, trying to sleep.

I I I

_Jack stared down at his shoes as he sat on the swing set, sitting in shadow. He could hear the other kids laughing and playing, running around him happily. He bit his lip, keeping his focus on his shoes. _

_No one ever wanted to play with him. They didn't care about jokes and card tricks._

"_Jack?"_

_He looked up, blinking, staring up at his friend. Jon sat down beside him on the next swing over, watching him._

"_What's wrong?" he asked, swinging back and forth lazily._

_Jack sighed, looking at his shoes again._

"_No one will play with me. I tried to play dodgeball with Marcus and all they did was push me to the front so I'd get hit first. Then whenever we switched again, they all ran to the side and I got hit again," he mumbled._

_Jon shook his head, sighing._

"_Don't let them get you down. Stay strong. Don't be afraid." He reached out, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "At least the sixth graders are leaving you alone now."_

_Jack looked up at him, tears swimming in his eyes. _

"_But all I wanted to do was play with them. They wouldn't even give me a chance."_

"_Don't let them put you down, Jacky. I'm still here for you and I always will be." Jon got off the swing, coming over to his friend and hugging him. _

_Jack returned the hug, sighing, then sat back on the swing._

"_Is it really too much just to want to fit in? All I want is for people to give me a chance."_

_Jon smacked him on the forehead playfully. _

"_Don't mope around. C'mon, let's go play."_

_He grabbed Jack's hand, dragging him off the swing set, racing off across the grass. Jack followed, smiling a bit._

_Good ol' Jonny, always there to lift him up when he was down._

_Jon led him to the basketball court where a group of kids were throwing a ball around. They all turned to look, pausing in their game. _

"_Hey, Jonny!" one boy yelled. "Who's you friend?"_

"_This is Jack." Jon pushed his friend in front of him. "He's my best friend."_

_Another boy stepped up to Jack, holding out his hand._

"_Hi, I'm Bobby. You want to play with us?"_

_Jack looked over at Jon and his friend nodded at him. He smiled back at the boy, shaking his hand._

"_Sure. I've never really played basketball before."_

_Bobby grinned at him, tossing him the ball. _

"_It's easy. You have two teams. Just throw the ball around and try to make a hoop. You can be on Jonny's team." He raced back over to his group and the game started._

_Jack threw the ball to another boy, watching as he passed it on to Jon. Bobby tried to block him as Jon jumped, throwing the ball at the hoop. The ball swished in, barely touching the net._

_The game continued for a few minutes before a large red ball suddenly came flying out of nowhere, striking Jack hard in the face. He cried out, hitting the ground hard, holding his cheek, eyes watering from the sting._

"_Jack!" Stars blinked in front of Jack's eyes as he looked up at them. The group had gathered around him, Jon pushing to the front. "You okay?_

_Jack blinked, rubbing his cheek and sitting up. He looked at Jon, then around._

"_What hit me?" He spotted the red ball lying a few feet away, staring at it before looking over his shoulder._

_Jon grabbed his friend by the arm, helping him to his feet, glaring over at the other side of the court. A big kid wearing a black shirt with a skull on it was pointing at them, laughing._

"_Score! I got the freak!" A group of kids behind him was laughing as well._

"_Hey, you jerk! Leave my friend alone!" Jon yelled at him, fists clenching. He took a step towards the group and they all made mocking "oohing" noises at him._

"_What, you think I can't take you on?" the bully sneered, crossing his arms. "How can you be friends with that freak? Look at him! He can't even play a simple game of basketball!"_

"_Just because we don't play the same doesn't mean he can't play!" Jon yelled back again._

_Jack rubbed his cheek, staying behind Jon. Bobby put his hand on his shoulder, glaring over at the big kid. _

"_Who cares? He's a freak!" the bully sneered, coming closer._

_Jack cringed, backing up a little, biting his lip._

"_Jon, just let him get over it. I'm fine, really."_

_His friend looked back at him, stunned. "I can't do that, Jacky. You're my best friend. You shouldn't have to deal with this kid." He turned back to the kid, glaring hard. "Leave him alone. He's just a kid, like all of us."_

"_He's not like us. Look at him. He's always carrying that stupid card deck around. And what's with the jokes? He stinks!" Loud laughter cut through the air as other kids turned to listen in, crowding in around them._

_Jon moved in front of Jack again as the crowd closed in, forming a circle around them. _

"_His jokes are better that yours!" Jon screamed, furious. _

"_C'mon, Bucky. Don't take crap from this kid. Show him who's boss," someone whispered behind the big kid. _

_The bully, Bucky, glared at Jon hard, fists clenching. "You know what? I'm not going to. I think the freak needs a lesson in manners."_

_He charged for Jon, yelling and Jon raced for him as well. The two collided dead on, punching and kicking at each other. Bucky took Jon to the ground, pinning him down and giving his mouth a hard punch, splitting his lip._

_Jon screamed, trying to push him off, finally driving his knee up between the bigger kid's legs. Bucky howled, rolling off him._

_Jack watched, wide-eyed, not sure what to do. He couldn't just stand there and let his friend get hurt. But he didn't want to get beaten up as well. _

_A blur raced past him before he realized it was Bobby, another kid from Bucky's side racing in to cut him off. _

"_Fight! Fight! Fight!" the kids chanted, pumping their fists into the air and cheering._

_Jack trembled, biting his lip, watching the fight. Where was the teacher? Where was help when you needed it?_

_The kid fighting with Bobby, slugged him hard across the jaw, knocking him down before turning on Jon and grabbing him. Bucky stood, driving his fist hard into Jon's gut as Jon screamed, the sound cutting through the air._

"_Jonny!" Jack threw himself forward, tears falling as he jumped on the bully's back, hammering his fists on his head._

_An arm caught him around the neck and threw him to the ground. Before he could even react, he felt powerful blows being dealt to his stomach and face, doubling over and crying out._

"_JACKY!!" he heard Jon scream somewhere behind him. All Jack could see was a swarm of legs and arms, all straining to put a mark on him. Jon was lying on the ground behind the crowd, reaching out for his friend._

"_Knock it off, break it up!" someone roared. The kids around Jack started to scatter, racing away to leave him lying on the ground. An adult pushed their way through the breaking crowd, hauling him to his feet._

_Jack screamed in pain, holding his stomach and sinking to his knees. Arms threw themselves around him as he looked up, seeing Jon. Blood trickled down his split lip, his eyes wide in fear._

"_Jacky, you okay? I couldn't stop them, they held me back."_

"_What's going on?" They both looked up at the playground advisor, Mrs. Weathers._

_Jon tried to help his friend to his feet, being gentle with him. Jack doubled over again, throwing up, collapsing to his knees again, aching all over. Jon stayed by his side._

"_A fight broke out. I think the bigger kid was trying to beat him up," an unfamiliar voice said._

_Jack looked up, gasping for air, staring at the newcomer. A boy not much older than him stood by the teacher, eyes wide, watching Jack. He had pitch black hair, blue eyes, and wore a green shirt._

"_Well, let's get you boys to the nurse's office," Mrs. Weathers said, helping Jon get Jack to his feet. She turned to the kid, looking over at the kids staying at the playground equipment. "Help him get his friend to the office. I'll deal with the others."_

_The kid came over to them as she marched away, grabbing Jack's other arm and helping Jon half-carry, half-drag Jack up to the school._

"_What happened?" he asked, looking over at Jon._

"_We were playing basketball and they wanted to beat Jack up," Jon replied, looking at his friend. He looked up at the new kid, an odd look on his face. "Why would a kid like you help us? I didn't think the teacher was going to see the fight before he got really hurt."_

_Jack only half listened, feeling dazed, hurting all over. He had a black eye, both his and Jon's lips were split, and his stomach protested with every movement._

"_Because you guys were in trouble. I couldn't just stand there."_

_The boy helped Jon get Jack into the school, carrying him down the hall to the office. Before they could open the door, Jack felt his mind grow hazy and he blacked out._

I I I

Jack cried out, bolting upright, panting, sweat running down his body. He looked around, shivering, then covered his face with his hands, sighing.

It had all been a bad dream.

_No, not dream... A memory. _

He sighed, dropping his hands, feeling his heart race from the memory. Where had _that_ come from? Sure, he dreamt of his memories every so often, but never that vividly.

"What's going on with me?" he mumbled, looking out the window. The sun was shining through, high in the sky. He'd probably slept till around noon again. 

He rubbed his head,feeling a slight headache there. Maybe he could take a pill for it before it turned into a full-blown migraine_._

Jack paused, eyes narrowing, a thought suddenly coming to him.

_How did I meet Jon? _

He sat quietly for a few minutes, trying to remember. He remembered Jon being there for him on the playground, while he was at work, but how did they meet...? He wracked hisbrain until it hurt, trying to remember.

_Oh, God, no. One of my most treasured memories...and I can't remember it._

_Can't remember? Or don't want to?_

_...I'm not sure._

Jack bit his lip, eyes watering. As much as Jon had hurt him to find out his friend was in Arkham, Jack honestly wasn't sure if he wanted to remember now.

_But Jon was always there for me. He made sure I never got hurt._

_But he hurt you badly. If he gets out of Arkham, he could do the same exact thing to you what he did those other people._

_But he was there for me! All my life! Like Midnight. _

_And what happens if he breaks out of Arkham? Where do you think he's going to go? He's going to come here for YOU._

Shaking his head, Jack stood, going over to the mirror and staring at his reflection. Still, the white-skinned, green-haired clown glared back at him.

"What am I?" he asked his reflection. He stared long and hard at it for close to half an hour, deep in thought, trying to sort his mind out. Finally, he focused on his reflection again, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"Who am I anymore?"

He paused,thinking back to the memory he'd dreamed of. If he couldn't remember how him and Jon had met, what else didn't he remember anymore? He stared at his reflection for another few seconds, then stormed out of the room, thumping down the stairs, thinking quickly.

If Jon managed to get out, Jack's house would probably be the first place he hit. He just couldn't take that risk.

Grabbing a travel bag from the closet, he roamed aroundhis house, searching for things to take with him.He couldn't take anything too big with him, only the most important stuff.

He snagged a small photo album, throwing it inside before running off into the living room. There, he picked up his photo of Midnight, pausing at the second one. It was one of him, Midnight and Jon playing together in the park. His hand hovered over the picture, undecided, then snatched it up, throwing it in. If not for Jon, it had Midnight in it. If he really wanted to, he'd just rip Jon out of the picture.

Half an hour later, his bag was full of photos, some food and soda, and a blanket. No use being uncomfy while he stayed and he wasn't sure what sort of food he'd find there.

Jack picked his bag up, slinging the strap over his shoulder, walking over to the door and opening it. He stopped, looking back inside solemnly. This would probably be the last time he'd ever see his house again. He took his keys out of his pocket, thinking over of the things he grabbed, not sure if there would be anything else he'd need.

_Screw it, if anything, I'll find it in the warehouse. _

He threw his keys into the living room, locking and slamming the door shut behind him. Standing on the doorstep, he stared out into the city, then promptly marched around back to the oak tree in the backyard.

Sorrow crept back into his heart as he stared at the mound of raised earth. This would be the last time he'd see Midnight as well. He bowed his head, standing there quietly for a few minutes, tears making their way down his cheeks. Then he turned without another look back, heading out onto the sidewalk and marching away from his house, ignoring everything going on around him.

I I I

Poor Jack. His life is in ruins, his dog taken away from him. It's no wonder he didn't go crazy before all this even happened. And if anyone can take a guess at what ideas came from me and my friend's rpg, you're welcome to take a guess.


	8. SLaughter is the Best Medicine

**Chapter 8: (S)Laughter is the Best Medicine**

Jack stalked down the street at a slow pace, looking around warily. He kept the bag close to him, keeping his head down.

To anyone else, it would be a glorious day. The sun was high and bright, making the very air warm. The birds were singing in the trees and fluttering around. And most of all, the air was alive with smells from different restaurants and vendors.

To Jack, it was a nightmare. Everything seemed all wrong. The sun was much too bright, blinding and painful to the eyes, the birds' singing was a screeching in his ears, and the smells... Ugh, the smells were just _horrible._ It smelled like garbage and death.

He ducked his head as he passed a group of chattering teens, glancing out at them from under his hood. They passed him by with no problem, their voices fading as they disappeared down the sidewalk.

_Sure, they act as though nothing is wrong in this city. They're probably the preppy kids in school or the people everyone's just nice to. But if you look deep down, this city is a dump. People don't really care about one another. It's just a cover to hide their true nature. _

Jack quickly swept to the side as a woman pushing a stroller passed by him. She smiled at him and he gave her the faintest of one back, keeping his chin tucked low. Glancing back at her as they passed, he saw she didn't return the look.

_Good. I can't stand to see a cheerful face at the moment. I just want to get to my new place and chill for a while, figure out what I'm going to do. _

As he made his way through the city, Jack paused at the gates of the park, his eyes glancing down at the pavement. There were dark smudges imprinted in the road, a faded sign of what had happened to his poor dog.

A bubble of darkness welled up inside him as he stared at the faded blood stains. He stood still for a moment, feeling his fury course through him like a poison. He clenched his fists tightly inside his hoodie pockets, his hands trembling from trying to restrain his anger. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to calm down as he breathed slowly, trying to think soothing thoughts.

He opened his eyes and blinked, noticing something.

He'd forgotten his shoes back at his house.

Jack stared at his feet for a long moment, trying to think how on earth he managed to forget his shoes. He'd been walking all this time and had never noticed. They weren't cut up or anything, he didn't remember stepping on anything sharp, but the very idea was just...very odd.

_How did I not notice this?_

_You were in a rush to get your of the house, were you not? You didn't even bother to think, you just went with the rush._

_Hm. Oh well. It's a warm day out, so I'm not too bothered by it. It's actually kind of nice._

Glancing once more at the dark stains on the road, Jack moved off down the sidewalk, trying to control the anger inside him. He looked in through the gates at he passed, watching the families playing with one another, the dogs running through the park chasing after balls and frisbees.

_Why is it that no one's given me a chance? I'm not a bad person. All I ever wanted to do was make people laugh. Is that really such a crime in this gloomy city?_

_This city is full of jerks. Don't let them get you down. That's what they want. They don't smile, they don't laugh..._

_No. They don't laugh, do they? They need a taste of true comedy to see it. Even if I have to throw it in their faces._

Laughter bubbled up inside him again, making its way past his lips. A group of kids stared at him as he passed, their eyes wide, looking back at him. Jack stopped, grinning widely, turning his head to face them.

The kids were met with the biggest grin they'd ever seen.

"Why so serious?" he hissed at them, watching them from under the hood.

The group stepped back as he turned fully to look at them, their eyes widening, hearts racing.

Making sure no one else was around to see, Jack lowered his hood, letting the kids get a good look at him.

"What-?" one kid gasped, not sure what to make of him.

Jack took a step closer to them, feeling excitement well up in him. He didn't know where it was coming from, but he didn't care. All he knew was that he wanted to _scare_ them.

"Why so serious?" he repeated, watching them closely. He felt the excitement grow in him, watching fear flood their faces. His fingers twitched in the air as he took another step towards them.

"Run!" another screamed, turning and racing away, abandoning her friends. The others were quick to follow her as Jack lunged at them, laughing.

He watched as they raced away, feeling the excitement in him growing even more, giggling madly.

_They were afraid of me... It wasn't the other way around this time. They were afraid of ME!_

Minutes passed as he stood there, laughing, tears streaming down his cheeks. After several gasping breaths, he calmed down, pulled his hood back up over his head, turned, and walked off.

_That felt really good..._

_Maybe that's all you ever needed to do. This city's done nothing but scare you with its cruelty._

_Scaring those kids felt so...exhilarating! _

He headed down another street, unable to wipe the smirk that was spreading across his face off. But this time, he didn't try to. That smirk was going to stay on his face as long as he liked this time.

_It's about time this city looks at me in a different light. No more running. No more being afraid. This time, I'M going to be the one making the rules. _

_They treat us so horribly. Look at what those school kids did to us, all they did was beat us up. _

_No one would laugh at our jokes, no one could see the true comedy. We'll show them true comedy and we'll MAKE them laugh!_

Jack turned down an alley, realizing he'd been walking for some time without even realizing where he was going.He found himself in the old part of Gotham already, his smirk stretching into a grin.

Laughter bubbled up inside him and this time he didn't try to control it. He stumbled a bit, bracing himself against the alley wall with a hand, laughing wildly, tears streaming down his face again. The sound was coming out deep and wild, occasionally rising in pitch until it resembled a hyena's laughter..

He let the bag fall to the ground with a thump, throwing up dust, leaning against the wall for support. The alley rang with his laughter, throwing it back at him, the sound bouncing off the walls.

_Ha HA ha ha ha HA ha..._

Jack didn't know how long he was in that alley laughing but he didn't care. He just didn't care anymore. It felt _good_ to laugh.

_No, not good. Great. _

After a few whooping laughs and a mad case of the giggles, the fit slowly grew to a stop, leaving him gasping for air. He snatched the bag strap up, slipped it onto his shoulder, then quickly moved out of the alley, panting.

_Wow, that was so unexpected._ _But it felt so good to laugh like that. _

He moved swiftly, catching sight of the warehouse in the distance, smiling, picking up his pace. Almost running, he felt jittery in the legs from a growing excitement again, starting to bend his knees more.

Glancing around to make sure no one was around, he cried out in sudden joy, leaping high and spinning in a circle before landing in a crouch, head tilted to the side.

_Whoa. Where did THAT come from? That was fun._

He smiled, running forward and making another leap, his bag swinging around and smacking him in the waist as he landed again.

"Screw running, this is much more fun," he told himself, taking off for the warehouse. He spotted a wall not too far away, racing along it before jumping up, planting a hand and foot on it before pushing himself off.

A sharp spike of pain in his mind turned his simple jump into a front flip, the bag flying from his shoulder. He landed in a crouch, one leg spread to absorb the impact, glancing upwards. His arm shot towards the sky, the strap slinging down onto his shoulder as he straightened himself up, the bad securely resting by his side.

"Wow, I never knew I could do this!" he beamed, looking down at his pale hands. Looking up, he saw that he was standing in front of his new home, a bit surprised. His fun antics had brought him to his new place in a matter of seconds.

Grinning, he shrugged, glancing around again before pushing the door open, stepping inside and shutting it behind him.

He walked farther in, dropping his bag down by a crate, putting a finger to his lips, thinking, looking around. A moment later, he stalked off, curious to what the crates would hold.

Old metal creaked above him as he explored, his feet scattering nails and broken pieces of wood. Light filtered in through the dirty windows, casting dark shadows all over the room.

_This place really is the perfect area to stay in. I'll be left alone and no one will even realize I'm here, as old as these buildings are. _

"Why is it no one likes a good joke anymore?" His voice came out high and whiny, surprising him. "Ooh, is this me now?" He listened to himself, paused, then giggled.

_I sound like a whiny little kid. _

Jack sighed, smiling, going over to a long crate, trying to lift the lid up.

It was nailed shut.

Studying it, he looked around the floor, going over and grabbing a crowbar lying on the floor. He went back over to the crate, sticking the end in under the lid, forcing his weight down on his end.

Screeching, the old nails finally gave way after a few seconds, one end coming loose. Jack moved to the other side, prying it open and letting the crowbar drop. Gripping the lid, he wrenched it open, peering inside curiously.

A circus hammer lay at the bottom, the yellowish brown color stained with dirt and dust. The top was adorned with a series of purple and green triangles, making him smile. A collection of guns lay around the hammer, dusty from years of being shut away.

Jack reached in, pulling one out and looking it over curiously. He looked around, faced the wall, held the gun up and fired.

He blinked when a green flag burst out of the end, startling him. Turning the gun to read it, he felt his smile widen. Written in yellow lettering, "BANG" was spelled out on the green fabric.

"This place is just full of surprises." He set the gun back in the collection, looking around, wondering what other fun toys the warehouse held.

_This is like a dream come true. Why would anyone abandon toys as fun as these?_

_Why would anyone leave a place like this? It's perfect for a growing clown. _

He walked over to a dusty mirror sitting against a wall, wiping the palm of his hand over it, trying to brush away the grit. Clearing the grime away slowly, he blinked at himself, then smiled.

He hadn't really bothered to comb his hair back the past few days and now it stuck up in all sorts of wild directions. The flecks of hair parted three separate ways, making him realize it'd grown a bit longer over the weeks of neglect.

_Wow... I kind've like it. Maybe I'll just grow my hair out. _

Jack studied himself curiously, looking his reflection over. His eyes were red and wild, he couldn't get the lopsided smile off his face from seeing himself, and his hair was starting to grow out.

_Just like a clown..._

A giggle passed his lips as he looked at himself, a thought occurring to him of his condition.

_It's perma-clown._

Turning, he walked back over to a crate, picking his travel bag up and sitting down, pulling out a candy bar. Pulling the wrapper away from the chocolate, he bit into it, looking around his new home.

Sure, the place looked like a dump, the rafters were old and creaky, there were cracks in the paint on the walls, and everything just smelled _old_, but to Jack, this was an improvement. An escape from the normal life where he might be able to start a new one.

He finished up on the candy, licking chocolate off his fingers, throwing the wrapper on the floor and standing up.

A box on the far side of the giant clown head had caught his attention. He moved closer to it curiously, looking it over. The box was gray with faded lettering written across the side, making it nearly impossible to read. A lock hung limply on a rusty hinge and he tore it off, opening the lid.

His eyes lit up as he pulled out his find, a smile stretching across his face.

_I'll only have to worry about one jacket now._

He held the purple tailcoat up to inspect it, turning it over, his doodles coming to mind. The jacket was perfect for him, but it would need some tailoring. The sides were much too long for his liking and he didn't like the idea of the sleeves constricting his movements. He'd either have to cut them to size or just roll them up.

_Hmm, now what could I wear as an undershirt? I already have green hair, so that wouldn't do._

_Red? Yellow?_

_No, those are my eyes now. It wouldn't look right._

_Orange?_

_That sounds better. I'll look around for one then. Maybe there's one already here. If not, I'll go look for one. _

He closed the lid to the box and set the jacket down on it, looking around thoughtfully. He'd spend the rest of the day exploring to see what else he could find. Smiling, Jack headed off into the maze of crates to explore.

I I I

A month later, anyone of their sane mind would've found Jack's condition at it's worst.

His hair had grown long and wild, spiked where his hair parted, accelerated by the chemicals he'd fallen into, a grin seemed to be permanently glued on his face, showing off the rotting teeth from too much candy and soda, and the laughter that rang around the warehouse would've scared anyone out of their mind.

Jack stood in front of the mirror, admiring his new threads. The straightjacket hadn't taken very long to make.

He'd ordered the jacket weeks ago from a pay phone, keeping his hood up over his head so no one could see him. A week after, a truck had arrived in front of an apartment down the street as Jack watched on. He'd given the company a false address and name; he didn't want anyone snooping around his own place.

As soon as the truck had left, he'd dashed over, grabbed the box and fled the street before anyone could see what had been dropped off. Not that it mattered. There'd been no one out.

It took him another week to get the desired result.

The straightjacket had been fixed that it closed in the front, rather than the back and it had his desired colors on the sleeves. The fixing had taken quite a while, as he'd had to make sure it would fit right without tangling him up in it.

Now, as he stood in front of the mirror, a grin on his face, he marveled over the new jacket, getting a good look at it. The sleeves dangled all the way down to his feet, dragging slightly if he let his arms fall by his sides. The buckles glinted in the fading light as he turned, getting a look from the back.

"Marvelous!" he squealed, his voice high pitched. "Look at me!" He jumped up and down a little, watching as his sleeves swayed from the motion.

He paused, watching his sleeves, then smirked, slowly swaying back and forth, letting his arms go with the flow. His sleeves swung in time, back and forth in a hypnotizing motion.

A moment later he giggled, turning away from the mirror and walking over to one of the crates. A few cards lay on the old wood, a project he was working on.

He'd found a couple sheets of metal over in one of the corners, razor thin. After much cutting, he'd finally gotten the metal into card-sized pieces. What he was going to do with them next, he wasn't quite sure. Maybe he could make his own unique deck of cards.

Jack looked back at his reflection again, a look of sudden confusion coming onto his face. What was going on with him? He'd never acted like this before in all his life.

_Those chemicals...they've changed me so much._

_But for the greater good. We can have fun and make people laugh now. We look funny. The jokes will be bigger, better. This city is nothing but a gloomy dump, but we'll be back soon. We'll show this city what we're made of._

_Agreed. Gotham is much too dark and no one laughs anymore. Look at the comedy club. Barely anyone goes anymore. They shun the talent there._

_People are cruel here. They love to put others down, like that gang that killed the dog. They didn't care who they hurt. _

_No. They killed him in cold blood. And...what was his name?_

_Who, the dog?_

_Yeah._

_Um...I don't know. Does it really matter anymore? They killed the dog, that's all that matters._

_Uh...I guess not. All I know is that deserves punishment._

Jack shook his head, blinking, as he sat down on another crate, slipping his hoodie back on over the jacket. There was more than one voice in his head now.

He sat quietly for a few minutes, trying to think, then gave up, letting the voices argue in the back of his mind. He picked up a metal piece, looking it over, then gave it an experimental flick of the wrist.

The card zipped through the air and embedded itself into the side of a crate.

"Whoa..." His eyes widened, staring at the metal piece. He slipped off the crate, going over and prying it loose. Looking it over, an idea stirred in the back of his mind and he smiled. All he had to do now was think of a design for his cards. He walked back over to the crate, setting the metal down by the others, then looked up out the window, watching the sun fade.

_Time for Jack to have a fun evening._

_No, not Jack..._

_Joker..._

It was time to get a good layout of where the teens were staying.

I I I

He moved cat-quiet down the sidewalk, keeping to the shadows, grinning madly. His shadow, thrown up on the wall, took on a nightmare size, the spiky points of his hair stretching over the trash cans. He paused, listening to the sounds of the city, crouched at the edge of an alley.

People walked up and down the sidewalk, chattering with one another or just walking at their own pace. He could see a mother pushing a stroller down the sidewalk, a vendor packing up for the night, a couple goofing off as they moved down the street, cars flashing by.

The clown's grin grew wider as he slipped around the corner, creeping along the wall, staying out of sight. He moved quickly, his movements jerky and swift.

He was searching for any loud obnoxious yelling or laughter, determined to seek his quarry out. So far, only the night city sounds.

A cat screeched at him from an open window, arching its back and hissing at him as he paused, looking up at it.

Sticking two fingers into the sides of his mouth, he pulled, stretching his lips out and snarling at the cat. The feline hissed and disappeared out of the window.

Giggling quietly, he darted across the road, bathed in light as a car swerved to avoid him. He heard the honk of the horn behind him as he slid into another alley.

_I'm so fast, this is so much fun, no one can keep up..._ the voice bubbled in his mind and he giggled.

Moving swiftly, he made his way through the alley, heading around the back of a building, keeping a sharp ear open.

"Dude, what're you doing? C'mon, Jake's gonna be mad if we don't get back soon."

The clown froze in mid-step, standing stone still, listening.

"I don't care, if he wants this crap, then we'll take as long as we want," another voice said.

The noise was coming from inside the building.

Shadows were thrown up on the wall as someone punched a glass window out near him, the shards scattering across the stones. The harlequin quickly pulled back into the second alley, slipping the hoodie over his head and letting it drop, flattening himself against the wall as two teens jumped out into alleyway.

"Didn't you just set off the alarm?" the first one asked.

"No, I cut the wires when we first got in," the other replied, shifting his prize in his arms.

"Well, forget it, let's get out of here."

The two teens quickly raced off down the alley, oblivious to their stalker.

Keeping up with them easily, the red eyes never left their backs as they fled the alley onto a side street, heading down the road. The grin never left his face.

"Why does Jake want this anyway? Not like he can do anything with it."

"He sells the parts to other buyers, you know that, dimwit."

"Hey, what'd I tell you about the names?"

"Well, ex-scuuuse me!"

"Hey, wait. What was that noise?"

They stopped, turning around and peering into the dark street behind them. Nothing but trash cans, busted up soda bottles littered in the street and papers.

The boy on the left smacked the one on the right in the arm.

"What, you scared?"

"No, just thought I heard something."

They stared down the street, then turned, taking off again...and stopped.

"What the-?" the boy on the left said, staring.

A clown stood in the middle of the street, head tilted to the side, dressed in the oddest colors they'd ever seen. Green hair topped its head, long and wild. A purple and tannish jacket. And, oddly enough, no shoes. The painted white face seemed to glow in the dark light, but what stuck out the most were the ruby red eyes and lips. It didn't seem possible that out of all the colors, those features stuck out like a sore thumb.

"Gary, what's going on?" the right boy asked.

The boy named Gary blinked, staring at the clown. "No idea, but he looks like a freak. C'mon, let's get this stuff back to Jake." He tugged on his buddy's arm, trying to move around the colorful jester.

The red eyes followed their movements, never leaving them as they moved around the clown, the lips pulling up farther in a grotesque grin.

Gary eyed him closely as they moved past, keeping a close eye on the clown. It never moved, never said a word..._and never took its eyes off them_.

"Gary, c'mon, let's get out of here..." the other boy tugged on Gary's sleeve.

Gary looked at the clown once more; it still stared at him with the same piercing red eyes and grin.

"Freak..." he muttered, turning his back.

He slammed to the ground, the computer pieces he'd been carrying hitting the ground and shattering into bits.

"What the hell?!" he cried out, trying to turn over. Turning his head, he saw a flash of green and purple, blinking in shock.

The clown had attacked him and was now standing on his back, pumping his fists into the air. Dropping into a crouch, the red eyes moved to within and inch of his own, cruel delight dancing in the yellow irises.

"Don't you know you shouldn't call people names?" The voice came out deep and low in a hiss, bringing a chill to his spine. The way the clown spoke sounded so child-like and playful, yet there was no mistaking the drip of venom.

"Get off, you freak!" Gary threw his arm back into the harlequin's stomach, knocking him off. He turned his head, trying to see where his buddy had gotten to.

A stack of computer towers lay abandoned on the ground.

As the clown jumped away, Gary rolled over and crab-walked backwards to put some distance between them.

"What...? Who are you?" he demanded, staring up at his attacker.

The grin stretched even wider, showing off rotting yellow teeth, playfulness lurking in the bright eyes.

"Joker..." With that, the clown lunged again, driving his fist into Gary's stomach, his other hand grabbing hold of the collar of his shirt.

"Let go of me!" Gary watched as his world spun upside down, landing on his head. The freak had thrown him!

He righted himself, spinning and pulling out a knife, aiming to hit the clown in the gut. The knife cut through empty air and he blinked, straightening up. No one was there.

A finger tapped his shoulder and he turned, feeling something hard smash into his face and splitting his lip. Blood trickled down his chin as he backed away, wide-eyed, watching the clown come at him.

"Oh, shi-" he mumbled through his split lip, realizing what was coming. A moment later and the dumpster slammed into him, knocking him down and under, tearing him open.

I I I

Joker stared down at the dead teen, eyes narrowed, smiling widely. He tilted his head, studying the body, watching the blood pool out on the road, then looked over at the dumpster, which had crashed into a wall.

As heavy as it had been to push, it had moved pretty fast once he'd gotten it moving. And the teen...so stupid to think he'd let him live.

His grin grew even wider when he realized that all the noise had attracted no one. It must be one of those districts that was used to gang violence and the noise.

He turned, feeling something well up with him as he headed off down the street, following after the other boy that had fled.

A moment later and laughter exploded out of him, ringing out through the empty street, echoing off the glass windows and bouncing the sound back to him.

Tears ran from his eyes as he stopped in the middle of the street, hunching over and shrieking with laughter, his eyes wild.

_No more Mr. Nice Guy... from here on out, Gotham, it's JOKER._

I I I

I had so much fun writing this chapter. And yet there's still so much more to tell. So many more loose ends to finish. Don't worry, there's still more chapters to come.


	9. Smilez

**Chapter 9: Smilez **

It didn't take long for Joker to track down the second teen. It would've been impossible not to. He could hear the idiot screaming a mile away.

Joker didn't plan on ambushing the gang right away. That would've just been suicidal. No, instead, he was going to get a good layout of where they were staying, where they hung out, and plan the perfect way to get back at them.

_Well, you know what they say. Payback's a bitch._

He moved swiftly through the shadows, quickly catching up to the loudmouth teen.

The punk had finally slowed down to a walk, yelling incoherently to himself as he moved down the street.

The teen shook his head, turning a corner, a large rundown warehouse appearing at the end of the street. Loud voices could be heard from inside, heavy metal music blasting through the broken windows.

Narrowing his eyes, the clown smiled to himself. How stupid of the punk. He'd led him right to the others without even knowing it. And now that he knew, it was time to rid himself of one more obstacle.

He grinned, thinking quickly, then sidestepped down an alley.

I I I

Jason raced for the warehouse, panicking. He'd abandoned Gary to whatever that clown had done to him. Jake was going to skin him alive...

"It's not my fault, man," he wheezed, moving as fast as he can. "That freak was really fast and all he could've done was cause trouble. That's all it was. It was run or get killed. All for a few computer parts."

He fled down the street, hearing the music get louder, then glanced over his shoulder to see if he was being followed.

No one behind him.

"Watch where you're going!" a voice screamed at him. A moment later and he collided with something hard, falling to his back and looking up.

It was the flashy harlequin again.

"What the hell do you want, man?!" he yelled back up at the freak, stumbling away from him as he got to his feet.

A huge grin stretched the lips of the pasty face, red eyes flashing.

"What do I want? What do I want?!" the clown roared, stepping closer.

Jason cringed, looking into those piercing yellow irises. The clown's grin grew impossibly wider.

"I just want you to know that I just wanna make people laugh." The clown's grin quickly drew itself into a frown as he looked down at the pavement, body posture becoming relaxed and almost submissive.

Confusion swept through Jason's mind as he stared at the clown. _Just wanna make people laugh?_ Who was this guy?

"Uh...don't know how to help you there."

The red eyes flicked up to look at him again, the corners of the mouth splitting into a toothy grin.

"Well, then. Guess we'll have to find a way, won't we."

A sudden blur of purple, yellow, and green threw itself at Jason, knocking him to the ground again.

He slammed belly-first to the road, screaming for someone to help, the sound lost in the loud music.

There was a sudden closeness between the two as he heard loud breathing above him. The freak was on his back!

He rolled, throwing the maniac off, jumped to his feet and took off. He could hear loud laughter behind him, telling him the clown wasn't about to let him get away easily.

Jason bolted down the street, turning into an alley and racing through to the end. He glanced back as a loud crashing, banging sound came from behind him.

The clown was literally bouncing off the trash cans and wall, laughing his head off as he followed Jason. He'd plant one hand and foot on the wall to push himself off, bounce to the next side ahead of him, quickly gaining on Jason.

The teen shook his head in disbelief, sprinting around the alley corner, racing into the street and smashing a window to a building open with his elbow. No alarm rang as he pulled himself inside, ducking low among some shelves, heading towards the back.

Rows of files and books lined the shelves that he passed, some brand new, while others looked as though they'd seen better days.

He kept low, glancing back as the moonlight cut out of the window. The maniac was crouched in the window frame, looking around. Now, hopefully, Jason could sneak out the front and get back to the gang.

I I I

Joker paused in the window, looking around curiously. His toes curled over the window sill as he perched there, carefully scanning the shadows, sure the teen hadn't gotten too far from him.

He knew this building very well. He'd scouted around here once before, when he'd been getting a layout of the district he was in. It was an old dentist's office, abandoned years ago for reasons unknown. He'd crept in many times, along with many of the surrounding buildings, to get a look at his territory. The office had held quite an assortment of toys for him; he'd found a desk of drills and picks and had proceeded in carving all over the main hall, writing out random names and pictures.

Streetlight filtered around him, silhouetting him up against the window and throwing a huge shadow over the shelves and wall. He could easily see the punk making his cautious way to the back wall, but at the moment, he didn't care.

He smiled to himself, dropping down in and walking through a door into another room, letting the teen think he didn't see him.

Looking around the room, he spotted a brown dentist's chair, rusted tools scattered on the floor and counter. A dirtied white sink sat next to the chair, the faucet rusted and cracked.

A giggle passed his lips as he looked around, deep in thought. He heard a clatter from the next room over and smirked. This punk wasn't going to get away if he could help it.

Joker picked up a drill, looking it over, smiling to himself, then suddenly frowned. For crying out loud, he was a clown! He needed to make this teen laugh before he died.

He set the drill down quietly on the counter, turning and heading into the main hall, where he quickly tiptoed to the front and pushed the doctor's desk in front of the door. He glanced around the room, thinking, wondering what to do about the windows. Metal gleamed out of the corner of his eye and he turned to look, another grin splitting his lips.

A few moments later and the windows had been blocked off by a stack of chairs, each leg bent to keep the other from moving. There was no way out but the way the punk had come in now.

The harlequin paused in his fun, listening quietly for any noises that would betray the punk's whereabouts.

_A scuff of a sneaker coming from a room down the hall..._

The grin grew even wider as he crept back down the hall, carefully peeking into the room.

"Hellooo, anyone home?" he giggled. No answer.

He was just about ready to creep in when a knife slashed out at him, narrowly cutting his chest open as he jumped back, scowling.

"Now that's not a very nice way to play!" he squealed.

Jason threw himself at the clown, growling, intent on spilling this creep's guts all over the floor. He might have succeeded too, if the clown hadn't jumped into the air and come down onto his shoulders, taking him to the ground. The knife skittered out of his hand, just out of reach, as he glared up into the grinning face.

"Tell me," Joker hissed, lowering his face to the teen's, their noses almost touching. "What does a guy have to do to get a laugh out of this city?"

"I don't know and I don't give a damn!" Jason shouted, kicking the clown in the gut and knocking him off. He rolled to his feet, snatching his knife up, and took off down the hall to the front, hearing deep, cruel laughter behind him.

Joker grinned, scrunching and throwing his feet out, lunging upwards onto his feet, then moved into the room. Humming casually, he walked over to the counter, opened a cabinet, reached inside, and beamed as he pulled out his prize. He waltzed out into the hall as soon as he had it, holding it behind the back.

Jason tugged frantically on the metal legs of the chairs, trying to pry them apart so he could get out through one of the windows. There was no way he could get through the door with that heavy a desk in front of it. It'd take him all night to move it, maybe even just to budge it. A slight _ting ting ting_ noise behind him made him freeze, spinning to face whatever was there.

The clown beamed at him happily, the yellow irises seeming to glow in the near dark as he moved a bit closer to him.

"You know what I think?" the clown asked him. "I think that people just don't get a good laugh anymore. See, they only care about putting others down and by the end of the day, they can show you who they truly are inside. You? Well, let's see."

Jason could see the red eyes looking him up and down, feeling his heart race. What did this freak want with him?

"You look like a kid that might like to laugh. Maybe by yourself, maybe with your friends. But one thing...is for certain." The lips drew back from the jagged teeth into a grotesque grin.

"Wha-what's that?" Jason's voice trembled.

The harlequin took another step closer, leaning in towards him, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"_I can make you laugh..."_

Jason didn't even have time to react as the clown whipped out a canister from behind his back, bashing him hard across the face with it. He tumbled to the ground with a cry, watching as the room spun, the clown stepping into view and spinning with the rest of the room.

"Twisted dreams, kid." Joker pulled out a small gas mask, hooking it up to the canister through a tube and turned the nozzle on. He slipped the mask around Jason's head, stepping back and admiring his work.

Something seemed off...

"Woopsy! Almost forgot!" He grabbed the teen's wrists, dragged him over to the corner and pulled out a purple ribbon. He tied the them together, then stepped back.

A few seconds passed as he watched, then a grin grew on the punk's face, giggling euphorically. Minutes ticked by as the laughing gas seeped into him, his face starting to grow red.

Joker turned, grinning insanely as the laughter echoed behind him, slamming the door shut behind as he marched into the main hall. A moment later he froze.

_Laughing gas..._

He stood there for a long time, a plan working its way into his twisted mind, the corners of his lips slowly pulling even higher as he thought it over.

_Laughing gas is just so blah these days. I'm gonna need something better... Something...me._

Cackling, the crazy clown fled the office in a matter of seconds, charging off down the street, racing back to his hideout. If he was able to pull this off, Gotham would die laughing...

I I I

Joker threw a hand through a pile of papers sitting on a desk sitting at the back wall. He made sure he had enough space before placing beakers and books up onto the wood. Grabbing the top volume, he leafed through the pages until he'd found what he was looking for, checked his equipment to make sure it was right, then turned, racing out into the night, laughing.

He returned two hours later, dancing his way over to the desk and carefully setting a small container of green chemicals onto it. He threw his hoodie over a crate, then crouched in front of the desk, staring at the container curiously, eyes big.

_It was in this very chemical concoction that I collected my clowny complexion..._

He stared at the chemicals quietly, lostin thought. It'd only taken just a couple of months for him to become what he was now...

His eyes narrowed suddenly, the corners of his lips twisting up into a smile_. _Funny enough, this certain sample he'd stolen had been ridiculously fun to get.

_Joker stared up at the chemical factory from beneath his hood. He was standing in the shelter of a large maple tree, watching for any movement that might give him trouble. His eyes glinted as he darted across the pavement, racing over to a window along the side of the building. Peeking around the corner, he saw a single guard at the entrance door, then turned his attention back to the window._

_Without a sound, he pulled a blade from his pocket, cut a large circle in the glass, then quietly pulled it out, setting it on the ground. Checking on the guard one last time, he slipped through the hole, dropping to the floor in a crouch. _

_His red eyes darted back and forth, checking to make sure the coast was clear, then he stood, creeping over to the elevator. His finger hovered over the button._

"_Did you hear about the drug bust down at the docks?"_

_Joker whirled, eyes wide, quickly looking around._

"_Yeah, that was so weird. A guy that dresses like a bat? Get real. There's no way that happened." Two guards walked around the corner of the hall, chatting with each other. They passed by the elevator, turning into the kitchen._

_Had either one of them looked up, they would've seen the clown clinging to the ceiling pipework, wedged up tight to the electric lines._

_As soon as he was sure they'd gone, Joker dropped to the floor silently, waiting a moment more, then pushed the button. He kept a wary eye on the kitchen as he waited, slipping into the elevator as the doors opened with a ding. _

"_What was that?" he heard one of the guards say. He grinned as the doors shut, growing excited. Maybe this would prove to be a challenge after all. _

_As the elevator took him up, the guards' words bothered him. A guy that dresses like a bat?_

_The doors whooshed open before too long and he raced out onto the walkway, looking down at the chemicals. The green light filling the room reflected in his eyes as memories flashed through his mind. _

_All it'd taken was one creaky railing after a chemical spill..._

_An alarm suddenly cut through the air, jolting him out of his thoughts. His eyes narrowed as the sound went on, jumping up onto the railing and leaping off to the floor below. _

_Racing around one of the chemical tanks, he spotted a collection of containers over by the wall. Glancing up at the walkway, he charged over to the containers, searching around before pulling out a small one. It would have to do for now._

_Joker whirled as the first gunshot rang out to his left. A lone guard was standing over by an exit at the far wall, firing at him. One guard wouldn't be a problem, for now. _

"_We have an intruder, repeat, we have an intruder. Wearing a black hoodie, third level," the guard shouted into his walkie-talkie. _

_Joker ducked behind one of the tanks, looking around and spotting a ladder, Taking his chances of getting shot, he quickly climbed up, staying low as he crept onto a platform. He leaned down, making sure he had solid footing as he dipped the container into the chemicals below. They hissed and bubbled as the container filled._

"_There he is! Get him!" His head snapped up to see as bullets pinged and banged around the metal around him. Two more guards were standing up on the walkway, shooting at him as best as they could._

_As soon as the container filled, Joker pulled it up, slipping the cover on and dropped to the floor, using the tank as cover. He flinched back as a bullet came close to his foot, moving around the vat, looking around._

_He froze, staring at a familiar drainage pipe. Glancing back, he streaked across the floor, racing into the pipe. Bullets panged against the metal as he dropped to his knees and raced through, grinning madly._

_He was home free, in the clear, and nothing had gone wrong. He hadn't been hurt, they hadn't gotten a good look at him. Everything was all good. _

_Joker emerged from the pipe, dropping into the water of the pond and splashed his way over to the bank. He kept a tight grip on the handle of the container, keeping it close to him, pulling himself out of the water. _

_No time to celebrate yet. He still had to get away from the factory before the guards could track him. _

_Taking a final look back at the chemical factory, Joker made a beeline for the fence, climbing up over the links with fingers and toes and jumping to the other side. He caught sight of flashlights in the parking lot behind him as he raced off down the sidewalk, hearing distant shouts._

_A grin split his lips in two as he made his way into an alley, proud of what he had accomplished._

Joker stared at the chemicals a moment more, then pulled a book over to him, scanning over the page.

_It would take much experimenting, but I think I could really pull this off..._

He glanced over at a set of canisters he'd stolen from the dentist's office. Would it be possible to combine ordinary laughing gas with a sample of the chemicals he'd fallen into? Or would he end up blowing himself sky high?

_Guess I'll just have to try it and see, _he giggled to himself. He stood up, stretching before heading over to the canisters.

I I I

By morning, Joker held up a glass bulb to the light shining through the window, grinning triumphantly. Green-colored gas swirled inside, hazy and dark. It'd taken several tries to get everything right, but now it seemed the chemicals were finally stable.

His first attempt at combiningthe chemicals to the gashad gone horrifically wrong.He'd judged the amount of chemicals wrong into a gas canister and the whole thing had blown up, throwing him clear into a stack of crates in the corner and bringing them down on his head.

The second attempt came out close to his succeeded attempt with a valuable lesson.Before he'd had time to ease the gas into a glass ball, a sudden and violent reaction had gone off in the beaker, blowing the cloud out into his face. He'd panicked at first, then quickly realized that the toxic green cloud wasn't hurting him. At all. _Lesson learned. I'm immune to my own chemicals..._

Now, aftera few more failures, he finally had the right mixture.

"This city won't know what hit it," he giggled, holding the precious orb up in the light, studying it. "I'll make them laugh. Laugh like hyenas!!" Mad laughter escaped him as he twirled, dancing back over to the desk and setting the bulb down gently. No need to waste what he had by being careless.

He looked out the windowas the sun grew brighter, sticking a finger to his mouth, deep in thought. It'd be pointless to attack the teens in the bright of day, where he'd be spotted easily. He wasn't ready to be seen. Not yet, at least.

_But what can I do to pass the tiiime?_ his mind whined. _I have all day...but nothing to do. Not until tonight. _

He stood in the shadow of the castle for a long time, trying to figure out what to do. He couldn't go anywhere in case someone saw him. He couldn't sit around all day, he'd go stir-crazy.

_What am I saying? I'm _already _crazy! _Joker giggled madly at the thought, grinning wickedly, then froze, his grin plastered onto his face.

_A guy that dresses like a bat..._

What had those guards been talking about?

He turned, zipping over to the big plush chair and jumped into it, turning the tv on. He quickly flipped through the channels, trying to find anything that might help him. A newscast was playing on one channel and he paused, watching. The reporters looked baffled as they watcheda figure in black fly away from the scene of a crime.

"...he seems to be helping this city in its crime problem," one reporter was saying, turning to her cameraman. "The Batman has just flown off, once again, after rounding up a gang of drug dealers down at the Narrows docks."

"I don't know about this bat fellow," the other reporter said. "I mean, really, Jessica, what nutcase dresses like a bat and fights crime? He seems deeply troubled to me."

Joker stared at the screen, eyes narrowed, trying to figure this out. He'd read about the drug bust in a newspaper he'd found, but there'd been no mention of this "Batman". The article had only said that the thugs had been heavily armed, hidden deep in the basement of an apartment, and the police had no way in without getting shot and killed themselves.

Jessica turned to the other reporter. "Are you so sure, Robert? Maybe this bat guy is really trying to help the city. After all, the city's crime rate has gone down since he's turned up."

"I assure you, Jessica," Robert said, "as much as it seems he's helping this city out, he's doing no favor to the police by doing their job for them. He could cost jobs and-"

Joker shut the tv off, folding his hands over his chest, frowning, deep in thought. This bat character seemed to be doing better than the police... In fact, maybe this was a challenge that Joker needed.

_He dresses in black, I dress in flashy, stylish colors._ _He fights crime, I'll GIVE him some crime to fight. _

He sat a moment more, then stood, going over to a stack of newspapers he'd piled up in the corner. He dug through them, one by one, ripping the pages off in slight fury as he searched, determined to find some news on this bat character.

"AHA!!!" he squealed twenty minutes later, yanking a paper out from under the stack, toppling the pile over. He dashed over to the chair, jumping and landing on the cushion, opening the paper up.

_Who is the Bat-Man?_ the headline said.

His toesstretched and curled reflexively as he read, red eyes scanning over the paper quickly. All the while, his mind buzzed for more info on "The Batman", determined to know more about him.

Even when he was done reading the paper, Joker sat there, staring at the article, eyes narrowed.

_This guy could prove to be fun. Bad guys always have an arch-enemy, right? So...this city will have The Joker...and The Batman._

He squealed happily again, dancing around in his seat, giggling madly, kicking his feet. A worthy opponent indeed, if he was able to take out all those drug dealers like that. He'd have to pay more attention to the news from now on.

His excitement grew and grew until he couldn't stand it anymore, jumping up and running around, screaming and laughing, climbing over everything in sight. He even grabbed the mallet from its crate and smashed a few empty ones nearby.

The twitchiness started to wear off by late evening. He wasn't jumping around like he had been, but he could still keep on going. And thinking about tonight only made him happier.

"They called me a freak... A monster..." Red eyes flashed as Joker glared into the mirror, a grotesque grin spreading across his lips. He held up his hands, admiring the black fingerless gloves he'd found hidden in the crate with the tailcoat. "I'll show them what a true monster is capable of. No one will even notice they're missing. They're scum that can be killed off and no one will mourn them."

He turned away from the mirror, looking over his toys, trying to decide what to take with him. He couldn't afford to just take the glass gas bombs. No. If something happened that they didn't work right, he'd be forced into a fist fight and he wasn't sure just how many members hung out at the hideout.

"Ah...A real beauty." Joker picked up one of the guns, looking it over fondly before pausing. He pulled the trigger, watching as a flag burst out of the end, then smirked. He pulled the trigger again, letting the flag fly and sink into a crate. Giggles escaped him as green toxin oozed down the wood.

He'd had trouble redesigning the gun so that he could fit the toxin inside the flag poles, but tonight he'd find out if his hard work had paid off.

Heading over to a large crate, he opened the lid, fanning away the dust as it creaked open, grinning down at the contents.

The light dipped outside the window as he looked up, smirking. Tonight had come sooner than he'd thought, which made him the happiest clown in Gotham. He quickly pulled out his prize, carrying it over to his arsenal, then grabbed a bag, gently fitting everything into it. He grabbed a small deck of finished cards off the desk and slipped then into his pocket.

The light faded entirely as he picked up his favored weapon, then slung the bag over his shoulder, humming happily as he headed out into the night.

I I I

Joker crept down the sidewalk, keeping to the shadows, giggling softly to himself. For months, he'd been dreaming of this moment. The moment where he finally showed those teens who was boss in Gotham City.

He headed through an alley, pausing when he felt something shift underfoot. He stopped, leaning against the wall, setting his toys down, and lifted a foot, looking.

Pieces of glass were embedded in his heel and toes, making him blink curiously. He looked up, trying to figure out where he might've stepped on a bottle or something else made of glass, staring at the scattered remains of dozens of bottles all throughout the alley. Still curious, he looked at his foot again, picking the pieces out and throwing them away.

_I didn't feel that at all. Until something shifted, that is. There's no pain, no feeling...and barely any blood. _

He stared at his toes a moment longer, then dropped his foot, picking up the bag again and walking off, grinning.

_Is this really what I think it is? Or am I just being...crazy?_

He paused in the alley, set his bag back down again, then punched the wall as hard as he good, kicking it for good measure. No pain in his knuckles at all and he merely felt the impact through his foot.

His eyes brightened as he picked the bag up, slinging it over his shoulder.

_Cool. I can't feel much pain either. So that's two things now. I'm immune to chemicals and now I must have a high-pain tolerance. This gig keeps getting better and better._

He marched off down the sidewalk, bobbing his head back and forth to a beat only he could hear in his mind, smiling widely. He slipped into an alley as a car passed, making sure it was gone before coming back out and skipping down the sidewalk, tempted to shout and scream in joy.

_Tee hee. No point in giving myself away yet. The best is yet to come._

He sprinted the last few blocks, then slid to a stop as he stared up at the warehouse.

Loud music blasted out of the cracked and broken windows again, echoing off the buildings around it. Good for him. The teens were home.

Joker stalked off into the brush, keeping low in case someone looked out the window, then paused, listening to the words of a song as it switched.

Twisted circus music blared out through the cracked and broken windows.

"_Sit back now, let me tell you a tale where justice does not prevail. About an ill-fated life so very full of strife, where two wrongs do not make a right. So, when I was born, I did surely scorn my proud parents' name, then their lives when down the drain. Drove them insane, my birth was a curse. I bit the nurse, oh but I love the worse. I deserve to be slowly submersed, dried out then laid in a hearse." _

He stared into the darkness, thinking the words over, then his grin stretched across his face again, chuckling darkly.

_My, how fitting... I might just "borrow" that cd of theirs._

He moved off around theside of the building, working his way to the back, listening to the words as he went.

"_I am not a bad man, even though I do bad things, very bad things, such horrible things. But it's not quite what it seems... Ah hell, it's exactly what it seems..."_

Laughter bubbled up inside him as he fought to control it, grinning madly, giggling hard. He leaned against the wall to keep from stumbling, laughing as the music pounded on, the sound lost in the music.

Joker was finally able to move off again as the song ended, hearing the lyrics playing over and over in his head. He smirked as he reached a back door, staring at it, humming softly. He studied the back of the building carefully.

The back of the warehouse was a maze of windows and broken glass. A window a few feet above his head looked promising. He waited until another loud song started playing, then jumped, catching the windowsill with his hands, and pulled himself up, crouching on the edge.

He paused,getting a good layout of the structure of the building.

The whole warehouse looked like it was falling apart. Beams of wood crisscrossed on the floor, broken and rotted from years of neglect. Broken bottles and trash littered the floor, magazines and different weapons in far a corner. A couple motorbikes were propped up against the near wall, dirty and covered in grime.

Making sure his bag was slung securely across his back, Joker leaped, catching hold of a plank, swinging himself around and letting go, flying up and landing on a dusty catwalk, spreading his arms and legs out to quiet his landing, crouched cat-like on the metal.

Music still pounded, a few dark shapes passing below him as some gang members walked over to a stack of boxes. He watched them, then quietly moved off down the walkway, keeping an eye out for trouble.

_This is too easy... Anyone could've crept in here and they'd never have known. They're too busy playing their music to the bleeding ear level and they don't know how to hide themselves very well. _

He tiptoed across the walkway, staying cautious in case one of the punks happened to look up or if the music suddenly decided to switch like it often did.

As he made his way over to a stack of wooden planks, he crouched, peering down into the lighted area below.

Fury flooded him as he stared down into the group, his fingers tightening on the side of a crate.

Jake and Tricia stood in the middle of the room, talking over the music, their weapons lying on a nearby table. He couldn't catch what they were saying; the music was too loud.

Joker watched them, looking around the room again, a plan forming in his twisted mind. There was at least a dozen members, three of which had passed under him a few minutes ago.

_Hmm...take out the competition, then the prize is all mine. _

He giggled, quickly creeping back down the walkway, making his way over to the boxes. The teens were still down there, talking to themselves, their view of the room cut off by a few crates. Joker couldn't have asked for a better killzone.

Jumping up onto the railing, he watched as one moved directly below him, then felt a grin split his face. He took one small step off the railing and plummeted down towards them.

"I don't know, Jason and Gary should've been back by no-" one was saying. His words were cut off as a heavy weight smashed into him, taking him to the floor.

The other two jumped back, startled, not sure what had just happened.

"Get him off me!" the first screamed.

One of the two, a girl wearing a red shirt with chains on it, reacted first, pulling out a switchblade and moving for the intruder that had taken her friend to the ground.

Joker saw the attack coming well before they could move in on him. He slipped his bag into his hand, throwing it into her and knocking her to the ground.

"April!" the punk on the left cried. "Get off Mitchell, you clown!"

The teen Joker was standing on was struggling to get free, pushing and kicking at him, but he held him down with ease. His hand reached into his pocket, pulling out one of the gas bombs.

"Shit, this dude's packing bombs!" the one by the boxes screamed.

Joker felt the punk under him freeze and that's all he needed. Smashing the orb to the floor, he jumped, climbing up onto the stack of boxes to watch.

A thick green gas cloud billowed up from the floor, shrouding the three teens in it. Joker watched calmly as the cloud swept over him, a grin on his face, hoping his toxin really worked. A moment later, insane giggles reached him, crashing and thudding noises coming from inside the haze.

He glanced back at the other teens in the warehouse, keeping an eye on them. He didn't wanted unexpected company until he knew for sure just what this new laughing gas did. He smiled back at the gas cloud, casually waving his hand to clear the haze.

The green cloud slowly dispersed and Joker was met by the happiest people in the world. He jumped to the floor, grinning madly as he watched the trio.

They were on the floor, laughing madly, eyes wild. Tears streamed down their faces as they struggled to breathe, their faces turning red. Joker danced in delight as their laughter slowly died, watching. The punks' bodies grew stiff, their mouths frozen upwards in a grotesque grin.

Joker paused, smiling down at them, then reached down, sticking two fingers to the April girl's throat. No pulse. Risking blowing his cover, Joker shrieked in delight, jumping around in excitement.

_This won't be the last Gotham sees of this stuff. It's very effective, in more ways than one._

He watched them a moment longer, still grinning, then turned to look at the gang scattered throughout the warehouse.

_This will be a breeze. But why kill them so quickly? Where's the fun in that? No. They will die slowly...and happily. _

But first he had to get rid of the most lethal of weapons. If one of those punks turned a gun on him, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to dodge a speeding bullet.

He crept over to one of the tables by the far wall, keeping an eye out for any punks, grabbing the guns off it. Moving quickly, he found a sewer grating over by the back wall and dropped them in with a splash.

Taking a moment to marvel over his new straightjacket, Joker giggled, pushing his sleeves up. As long as he could take out the big guns, this would prove to be very fun.

Tiptoeing through the blaring music, he made his way over to another table, using a stack of newspapers as cover. He reached out to grab a gun off the table.

"Where the hell is Jason and Gary?" Jake demanded, slamming a box down on the table.

Joker's hand flew back into its sleeve.

"How should I know? They should've been here yesterday," Tricia returned, crossing her arms.

Jake shook his head, leaning against the table, eyes narrowed. "We need those computer parts. The guy at the Narrows had something in them he needed. Once he's out of Arkham, he'll be on his way to get it."

"What'd you tell them, anyway?" Tricia asked, watching him.

Jake sneered, grinning. "I told them we sell the computer parts to other buyers. Didn't say there was stuff hidden inside the towers."

Joker's whole body froze up, eyes flashing dangerously. He'd heard the two punks talking about this same situation the other night.

"If he doesn't get what he wants, we're in deep trouble," Jake snarled, slamming his fist down on the table. "He knew he was going to Arkham, but he left us in charge. Now those assholes have gone and screwed everything up for us."

Tricia sighed, grabbing his hand and pulling him away from the table. "Relax. They'll be here. Maybe they ran into some trouble and they had to ditch for a while. GPD doesn't cruise around down here very often, but when they do, it's because they were tipped off."

She led Jake away from the table, heading back over to the over to the one in the middle of the room.

Joker peeked out from behind the newspapers, watching them, quiet. _Something hidden in the computer towers..._ He stuck a finger to his lips, deep in thought, eyes narrowed. This could mean anyone in Arkham could be doing this.

_Jonny boy was always the smart type of kid... If he's really behind this, these idiots could lead me right to him. _

He quickly snatched the guns off the table, scurrying back over to the sewer grate and dropping them in. The whole while, thoughts and memories swirled in his chaotic mind.

_Jonny was sent to Arkham for what he'd done. If he was smart enough to persuade these kids to help him before he was incarcerated,_ _just how long has he actually been doing this? And how the hell did he get these punks to help him?_

Joker shook himself out of his thoughts as a gunshot rang out, startling him. He ducked behind a crate, peeking out as a boy ran at him.

"Guys, someone's here! Blow his brains out!" The music grew to an unearthly silence.

Annoyance overwhelmed Joker as he glanced over at Jake and Tricia, who were grabbing their weapons off the table.

_Okay, I admit it. I was looking for a challenge anyway._

Joker waited until the boy with the gun was close enough, then squeezed through the gap in the crate and wall, quickly making his way over to his bag. He unzipped it, pulling out his own gun and stuffing a few gas bombs in his pocket.

Another gunshot nearly took his ear off.

He whirled, holding up his gun as the teen raced around the crate corner, then pulled the trigger twice, grinning.

His shot aimed true. The punk screamed as the flag punctured his chest, falling to his back and collapsing into a lethal fit of giggles.

The harlequin watched a moment, then bolted out of his little hiding spot, racing along the wall, watching as two more punks moved to cut him off.

His eyes glinted as he jumped, planting his feet against the wall and pushing as hard as he could, sailing over the teens' heads. He flipped in midair, coming down behind them, then threw down another gas bomb as two more ran over, carrying knives and crowbars.

The toxin blew up in their faces as soon as the orb hit the ground, but Joker didn't stick around to watch this time. He was already paired off with a teen in a black muscle top, sporting chains all over his jeans.

"So what's it gonna be, clowny? Just you and me now," the teen cawed, pulling out two swords off his back.

Joker stared at the punk, amused. He didn't seem afraid, and yet he looked ridiculously confident he could take on the clown.

"You seem very confident with those," the harlequin told him casually. He pulled out a single card from his pocket and threw it into the air.

"Oh, believe me, I am, clown boy," the punk chuckled, circling him.

"Well, I just have one thing to say to you, my friend," Joker smiled back at him.

"Oh, yeah, freak? What's that?" the teen snarled, pushing his face into Joker's, confident he could take him on.

"Instead of playing with your little knives there, you should be watching your back."

The teen's eyes widened as he turned, his eyes flicking upwards as a huge crate came smashing down on top of him.

Giggling, Joker picked the swords up and threw them over his shoulders, hearing the clatter somewhere behind him in the maze of crates.

"There he is, get him!" Tricia's voice rang out.

Joker whirled, leaping over the head of another annoying teen, landing behind and turning to see. His eyes light up, a grin splitting his face.

"Why, isn't it little Maria," he giggled.

Maria turned to face him, glaring, pulling out a switchblade. Her eyes widened when she looked into his face. "You...you're the creep that we attacked before."

Joker nodded, giggling, watching her. "Right you are, young lady. And as you can see, I've had a makeover." He reached into his pocket for his gun.

"Hold it, buddy. You're not going anywhere."

The clown froze as a gun barrel jammed itself against the back of his head, his grin never faltering. He heard footsteps behind him, glancing over as Jake came to his front. The boy's eyes widened, staring at the clown in disbelief.

"You..." he gasped, staring into the clown's red eyes. "It was you the whole time..."

Joker stared back at Jake, his grin only getting wider, not seeming to mind the gun jammed into the back of his skull.

"I believe you know the saying, _payback's a bitch._" He jumped suddenly, kicking back and knocking the gun clean out of one of the other teen's hands, kicking out with his other foot and snapping Maria's head back with a sharp crack.

"Jake, catch!" Tricia called, throwing him his steel baseball bat.

Joker landed, taking off towards the back of the warehouse, laughing, watching the rest of the teens coming racing at him from the sides.

"Sorry, kiddies, this clown has a schedule to keep." He leaped over a crate, throwing back his last gas bomb from his pocket, hearing it shatter behind him. Screams and laughter soon rose into the air, making him giggle again.

The harlequin raced over to his bag, quickly pulling out his favored weapon. It was another circus hammer, but this one had been dangerously modified.

Joker lifted the hammer up, letting it rest over his shoulder, marching out into the green haze, grinning madly.

He calmly walked out through the green gas cloud, hearing and faintly seeing bodies dropping to the floor, their laughter surrounding him as he stepped out.

Jake and Tricia were the only teens left standing.

They stared in disbelief as the clown marched towards them, red eyes flashing, that grin never leaving his face.

"What the hell...?" Tricia moaned.

Joker let the hammer head fall to the floor with a clank, giving them his best grin. Sharp green spikes jutted out from the ends, the whole hammer an array of purple-ish and yellow swirls. A ring of smaller spikes circled the head, all green.

The clown sighed, letting them get a good look at his weapon, then lifted his head, watching them.

"I'm giving you one chance to tell me who you're working for."

Jake hefted his own baseball bat up. "Why should we tell you. It's none of your damn business."

Tricia stared at the hammer, glancing at Jake, not really bothering to pull out her switchblade.

The red eyes narrowed, glinting in the dim light of the warehouse. "Depending on who you're working for, I believe he might be a close friend of mine..."

"It's none of your business, you clown. Why don't you run off to a circus and sign yourself up there as a freak," Jake snarled, taking a step closer.

Joker didn't budge, calmly watching him. "I'm giving you one chance, kid. You better not blow it either." A slow, sinister smile played at the edges of his lips. "I need to know who you're working for."

Jake took another step closer, fingers tightening on the bat. "And I told you, it's _none of your damn business._"

The smile turned itself upside down, red eyes never leaving Jake's.

"Suit yourself, kid. I just took out your whole gang. You're on your own here."

Joker picked up the hammer, watching as Jake rushed him. He gave him a playful half-smile, waiting until he was close, then suddenly whirled, the sharp spikes sinking deep into the teen's side.

Jake screamed, thrown hard to the floor, bat clattering out of his hand. "You son of a bitch!"

The red eyes glanced at him, then turned onto a frightened Tricia. "Are you going to tell me?"

"C-C-Crane. Jonathan Crane," she sobbed, backing away from him.

Fury flooded throughout Joker, his fists clenching on the handle. _So it was true..._

Joker moved towards her quickly, grabbing her around the throat and held her up against the wall.

"What is he doing. What was in those computer towers." His demands weren't questions.

Tricia gripped his hand, choking, staring into those wild red eyes. "I-I don't really know. Before he got sent to Arkham, he hid some stuff in the towers. We were only supposed to retrieve the towers and meet him once he got out of Arkham."

The red eyes moved up and down, looking her over. She was paralyzed by fear. She'd never seen eyes so red as this clown's before.

"Is there anything else you can tell me. Where he'll be, when the breakout will be," he snarled, pushing his face into hers.

"No, I don't know anything else!" she sobbed, tears falling. "All we were told was to retrieve those towers. He'd let us know when he was out, but he didn't say how!"

Joker glared into her eyes another minute, then dropped her, grinning. He turned away, watching Jake, hearing the girl stand behind him.

Thanks much for the information. Unfortunately..." He turned to look at her, fingers tightening on the hammer.

Tricia glanced at Jake, then back at the clown, breathing quickly. Something about that face...the features...

"Oh, my God..." she breathed.

Joker's voice lowered to a dangerous growl, those piercing yellow irises holding her where she was.

"You killed my dog..."

Tricia had a split second to scream before the spikes of the hammer slammed into her skull, crushing it. Blood washed up against the wall, the bone crunching as he pulled the hammer away.

"Oh, shit..." Jake moaned, watching. He struggled to crawl away as the clown slowly turned to look at him, trying to drag his aching body across the floor.

He heard feet slapping the concrete behind him and a moment later, the clown stepped around in front of him. Shivering, he looked up into the stark white face.

"You...it was you we pushed and the papers went flying..." he whispered, staring into the hateful red eyes.

Joker watched him, then laughter bubbled up inside him, escaping as his lips split in two, showing off every rotten tooth.

"You teens and this society... You think you can get away with pushing people around, costing them their jobs, taking their pets from them... This city is much too serious. There's no real comedy in this town anymore. And I full-heartedly plan on giving that to them."

"Please, no..." Jake groaned, trying to pull himself away.

A rough hand grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, lifting him up off the floor and throwing him onto his back.

Joker shook his head down at him, lifting the hammer up for him to see. "You didn't think I was going to use _this_ on you, did you? No..." He let the hammer fall to the floor with a clank, then reached into his pocket, fiddling with something before pulling it out. "No, my friend. You won the special prize."

The harlequin pulled out his gun, holding Jake down with a foot as he aimed it straight at his face. The whole while, the clown had been frowning. Now another toothy grin split his mouth open.

"Remember to smile!" he squealed cheerfully.

Two gunshots later, Jake's head rolled to the side, the green flag sticking out between his eyes, his mouth pulled up into a painful grin.

Joker stretched, yawning out of boredom now, looking around the warehouse as the clouds of green gas slowly lifted. Bodies scattered the floor, most of them smiling in their deaths.

He turned, walking back over to the back, picking up his bag and slipping it over his shoulder. Joker hummed happily as he marched past Jake's grinning body, then paused. He smiled, heading over to the huge cd player in the corner, opened the lid and plucked out the cd.

_Creature Feature _was worded out on the front of the disc. Joker shrugged, still smiling, then slipped the cd into his pocket as he waltzed out of the warehouse, overcome by a sudden case of loud, insane laughter.

I I I

PHEW this was a long chapter to write! But this one was SO worth it! I know, I'd make a horrible chemist, and quite frankly, I think I'd blow myself up if I tried to make this sort of concoction. But sadly, I believe there will only be a chapter or two left of this story. So please, review and let me know of what you think.


	10. Dance with Madness

**Chapter 10: Dance with Madness**

Over the next month, Joker became increasingly agitated. He'd heard no news on Jonathan Crane, which could only mean he was still locked up at Arkham. And again, no more word on this "Batman". He was getting extremely impatient by now.

"What does a clown have to do around here?" he mumbled to himself. "Blow something up?"

He stomped over to the tv, turning it on, growing angry as he scanned through the channels. There was just nothing new on. Nothing on either Crane or "Batman". It was enough to drive anyone insane!

He glared at the tv, tempted to throw the control right through the screen, but kept his temper. If he destroyed the tv now, he could miss something important. Instead, he shut it off and stormed over to his castle, heading inside and making his way to the top, throwing himself on the ledge and laying there, moping.

Even though it was night, he took no joy from the darkness.

As often as this bat character had shown up on the news, he certainly wasn't making any appearances now. Joker was hoping for any small clue for him to give himself away. He wanted to get a closer look at the guy.

_Grr... What should I do? Lure him out? No. I might get caught before I'm ready. I don't know what he's capable of. _Joker rolled over onto his side, frowning, staring out across the warehouse. Sure, it was an abandoned party favor factory, but until he could find something to entertain himself with, it was..._boring._

He rolled back over, pulling the remote from his pocket and clicking the tv on. He nearly fell off the stone when a newscast came across the screen.

Jumping to the floor, the clown zipped over to his chair, jumping in it and cranking the volume up.

"Steve, I'm standing in front of Gotham Access Systems, where a hostage situation is taking place," a petite young blond woman was saying. "Not too long ago, a man in all black entered the building, shot the floor executive, then proceeded to make his way to the top floor. We have no visual on what's going on inside, but so far we know that all police attempts to get inside have failed."

Joker eyeballed the screen curiously, remembering when his old self had worked there. What a drab, dreary place that place had been. If it was a disgruntled worker doing this, he really didn't blame them.

Then he paused, a smile curling his lips up.

_If the police can't get inside, would this bat character be willing to take a stab at it? This might be my chance to finally see this guy._

With that in mind, the harlequin dashed over to the desk where his hoodie lie over the chair. He grabbed it on his way past, slipping it on over his straightjacket as he bolted out the door.

I I I

Joker marched down the sidewalk, head lowered to hide his face. As he neared the building, he slipped into a nearby alley. A mob of people crowded tightly by the police barriers, the police doing their best to keep the crowd back. He could hear orders being shouted over the hubbub, nearly drowned out in the noise.

He glanced up, trying to take in the situation. So far all he could see was a crush of people, a squad of police surrounding the front, and a van of FBI agents getting ready to storm the building.

A gunshot rang out as the squad agent leader attempted to get near the door, making the crowd flinch and cry out.

The harlequin smiled to himself. Whoever was in there liked people to know who was boss. If it wasn't for the fact Joker was waiting for a certain someone, he may have tried to ambush the man himself for a challenge.

He suddenly caught movement along the back of the building, hidden well away from the crowd. Blinking, the clown glanced at the crowd, then raced through the alley, taking off around the corner and flattening himself to the wall, creeping towards the far street.

The sound of a small ratchet noise whirring caught his attention as he peeked around the corner. A man in all black was crouched by the base of the building, fiddling with something. A moment later, he shot into the air by means of a grapple gun, making Joker gawk.

This had to be the guy he was after. He didn't know of anyone else that had been accused of having such fun toys to play with.

He watched the man disappear through a window, deep in thought. So the Batman carried toys, he could beat up heavily armored drug dealers... Joker's twisted mind whirled.

_Now there's only one thing left to see. How this guy fights. Is he a clean fighter, dirty fighter, or strictly all gadgets?_

A crazy thought entered his mind.

_What am I standing here for?_ _This is the chance I've been waiting so long for!_ _I need to get in there and see what he's capable of!_

With that, the crazy clown raced to the back of a building, elbowed a glass window and jumped inside. Granted, any sane person would've thought the idea suicidal. To actually go into a building with a man who's actions were unknown was just plain suicidal. To Joker, it was playtime.

He crept silently down the hall, keeping a sharp lookout. As much as he wanted to see this bat character in action, he himself didn't want to be seen or heard yet. He wasn't ready. Yet.

His feet made no sound as he quietly padded down a hall, keeping low, ready to duck should a gunshot ring out. His excitement getting the best of him, the clown realized his breathing was coming out heavy and ragged. He stood still a moment, collecting himself, then snuck off down the hall, peeking around the corner.

Joker made to step into the hall, then suddenly dove under a nearby desk, clamping a hand tightly over his mouth and nose. A black boot landed where he'd been standing a second later.

Red eyes glinting, the clown made no move to see his unknown companion. He knew who this was and he had no intentions of getting arrested so soon.

Another boot stepped into view as the vigilante moved off down the hall at a brisk pace. A door closed at the end of the hall soon after, but Joker didn't move. He'd watched enough movies to know he wasn't out of danger quite yet.

A smash came from behind him and he winced. It'd sounded dangerously close to him. Peeking through a gap in the desk back cover, he could see the Batman guy searching the room.

Narrowing his eyes to slits, Joker watched as the masked man turned, heading back down the hall to the door. This time, the door opened and the black cape slipped through before the light shut out with a click.

The clown crawled out of his hiding place slowly, wary in case that door happened to open quickly again.

Standing, he looked around, sighing quietly.

_Okay. Very sneaky. I can deal with that. He's good. Very good._

Joker's mind whirled a mile a minute as he crept quietly down the hall, taking a different route than his caped companion. He knew this building like the back of his hand, he knew all the twists and turns. Instead of taking the door, Joker turned a left at the end of the hall, pushing into an executive's office.

The room was pitch black except for the moonlight that filtered through the blinds, casting dark prison bars on the walls and anything in its way. Joker glanced down at himself as he moved towards a far door, looking at the shadows thrown across his hoodie, imagining his straightjacket underneath.

_I simply will not look good in prison garb. __No fun colors at all._

He reached out, slowly opening the door with a soft click, peeking his head out. The coast was clear. Just as he was about to head down the hall to the right, gunfire rang out from the one to the left, startling him.

A series of muffled thumps and thuds told him a fight was already well underway.

Keeping to his cautious creep, the harlequin tiptoed down the hall, lowering himself as he peered around the corner.

Black gloved fists struck again and again with the terrorist, driving him back against the wall, guns clattering out of his hands. The man shouted as he took a blow to the gut, toppling over and to the floor, unconscious.

Joker stared, feeling something stir in him as the masked man bent down and scooped up the weapons. Something must've triggered in the air. Not a second later, the white eyes turned in Joker's direction, but he was gone already.

He tore down a flight of stairs like the madman he was, hearing noises behind him as he raced down the hall, trying to stay as quiet as possible. Pausing at a room, Joker quickly dove inside, making his way over to a small cabinet and slipping inside, quietly closing the door shut behind him.

Minutes ticked by as he waited, keeping his breathing quiet. Finally, he heard a rustle enter the room, narrowing his eyes. The sound passed the cabinet and he heard a crashing noise of chairs and tables being thrown and upended.

As he waited and listened to the noise, it occurred to him his pursuer might not think to even look in the cabinet. Joker had squeezed himself in with ease and he realized no normal human man would even be able to fit where he was at the moment.

He heard angry footsteps leave the room and cautiously opened the door. No one was waiting for him as he crawled out, standing up. Below him, the next floor down, he could hear shouts and muffled whispering.

_I gotta get out of here before I'm the one caught._

The clown glanced around the room, spotted a window and opened it, glancing back behind him. It seemed that the Batman had taken a different route out. He hopped up onto the windowsill to see where he was, then smiled. Twenty feet below him, soft grass waited. He jumped, landing nimbly and scurried off into the brush as lights shone out the window he'd just jumped from.

I I I

"God, that was so exciting! I MUST do it again sometime!" Joker cackled, dancing around the castle. He flung his hoodie off, nearly tap-dancing in his excitement.

He raced over to a chalkboard, studying a handful of newspaper clippings taped there. Titles and headlines screamed out about the Batman, different pictures strewn out in between the clippings.

Joker had witnessed the takedown himself and had escaped with ease. The very thought made him giggle, clapping his hands together excitedly.

His eyes narrowed as he smirked at the chalkboard, crossing his arms in thought. This Batman was certainly a fun character to tango with. He was the very opposite of what Joker seemed to be and that would make the challenge even better.

The tv played softly behind Joker as he looked over the chalkboard, deep in thought. He glanced back time to time, ready to rush over the moment something was said about his new playmate.

As he stared at the chalkboard, sunlight started to filter through the filthy windows, making him pause and look over. He blinked, then rubbed at his eyes. He'd been standing there all night.

_No matter. I know Batsy's way of fighting now. _He paused, then giggled, liking the sound of the nickname. _He prefers psychical fighting and I can only assume he'll use his weapons, given the chance._ _I'll have to be careful at first, but this should be child's play. Plus he won't be expecting ME._

He moved over to his chair, plopping down in it and curling up, glancing at the ceiling. A momentary feeling of sadness washed over him, making him frown. Something was bothering him, he could feel it on the edge of his crazed mind...but he just couldn't tell what it was. Sighing, Joker yawned, then curled up more, getting comfy, shutting his eyes. He'd sleep the day off, save his energy, then plan his next move.

I I I

_Jack smiled happily as his childish fingers slipped another card on top of the pile. He was sitting in the shade of a large oak tree by the pond, occasionally looking out at the water as he attempted to build a card house._

_Ducks and geese slowly patroled the water, honking at each other time to time, a family of ducks flying in over head and touching down in the water with a splash. Dogs romped with their owners on the other side of the park, racing back and forth with each other._

_Still smiling, Jack looked around at everything, feeling happy in the day. His mother had brought him to Gotham Central Park to play for his seventh birthday. He didn't want a party or anything special. Why bother? He had no friends. _

_Turning back to his cards, he set another one up, trying to making it stay. A gust of wind quickly knocked his hard work down and he pouted, crossing his arms. _

"_Mom, the stupid wind knocked down my card house again! "_

"_Honey, just play nicely. It's not the wind's fault," his mother replied distractedly from the bench nearby, her nose stuck in a book. She shifted her glasses on her nose, glancing at her son. "Why don't you feed the birds? That'll give you something to do."_

_Jack stared at his mother as she returned to her book, then frowned. Sure, no one cared about how much he loved his cards. He looked out at the water, sighing, unhappy now. Just to make his mother happy, he went over to her purse and picked up the bag with bread crumbs in it. He walked back over to the pond bank and sat down on the bank, slowly handing out crumbs to the chattering birds._

_He watched as they swam over, pecking the morsels from his hand, not really taking any joy in it. Out of frustration, he finally dumped the remains in the water, nearly causing himself to be lost in a sudden wave of wings and feathers, and stumbled back up to his little play area. _

_As beautiful as the day was, with the birds twittering, the sun shining brightly, and delicious food smells wafting through the park, Jack found no happiness in the day. He curled up by his cards, staring at them, feeling tears well up._

_Before they'd come to the park, his mother had baked him a birthday cake. His father had been absent from the little party... Probably out drinking again. Whenever his mother had set the cake down in front of him, she'd asked him what he wished for. Jack had never told her, out of superstition that if wouldn't come true if he told, but what he really wanted for his seventh birthday...was a friend._

_Just one single friend that he could hang out with, to laugh and play with each other, do little boy stuff. Someone he could tell all his problems to and make them go away. _

_But instead, all he'd gotten was a trip to the park to play by himself near the pond with only his cards to keep him company. _

_He brushed away the tears, sniffling a little, picking up his cards and shuffling them up. Carefully, he started on the card house again, hoping the wind wouldn't take it again. _

_A sudden sound of honking and laughter caught his attention and he lifted his head, trying to find the source of the noise. A bush to his left blocked his view to the pond, sloping down towards the water. _

_Quacking in protest, a small group of ducks rose over the bush, wings flapping_ _madly, racing past Jack as they rose into the air_.

_Jack blinked in utter confusion, watching the ducks fly off, then glanced back at the bush as a rustling came from it. A moment later a boy not much older than himself barreled through, giggling and laughing, his eyes set on the fleeing ducks. _

_Within seconds, the second boy had crashed into Jack, both of them falling to the ground in a mess of limbs and yelling, the little card house getting flattened_ _as they rolled._ _They came to a stop at the bottom of the hill, trying to untangle themselves._

"_Ow... Aw, geez, I sorry," the second kid told him, getting off him and standing up. He reached down, taking Jack's hand and helping him up, biting his lip._ _"I didn't know anyone was playing on the other side of the bush."_

_Jack brushed himself off, looking at the kid, blinking. "Um...that's okay. You scared me when you came through like that though."_

_The kid rubbed the back of his neck, watching Jack, then smiled at him. "I'm Jonny. Jonny Crane. I'm still sorry about that."_

_Jack paused, then smiled back, nodding. "Jack Napier. It's fine." He glanced back at the card house he'd been building, then looked back at Jon. "You really squished my cards."_

_Both giggled at each other, looking at the bent cards._

"_Sorry, but you know what? They look better that way," Jon grinned at him._

_Grinning, Jack looked at the cards, then at him._ _"Maybe we could try rebuilding again. But I dunno how we're gonna do that with bent cards."_

_Jon reached into his pocket, smiling, then pulled out a fresh deck of cards. "Maybe we can use mine."_

"_You play cards too?" Jack asked, amazed._

"_Sure do," Jon replied._

_They walked back up to the play area, sitting down and trying to set the cards up._ _Jack sat down opposite to Jon, smiling, setting up two of the cards._

"_So, who're you here with?" Jon asked, looking up at him. "My dad brought me here to play frisbee."_

_Jack paused in the cards, feeling emotion cloud his head. Could he really put his trust in this strange kid? Could he really trust that he wouldn't be hurt again or pushed and shoved around?_

_He slowly looked up at Jon, suddenly feeling very shy. "...my mom brought me here for my seventh birthday. My dad...um... My dad doesn't do much with me, so my mom brought me."_

_Jon watched him, looking genuinely interested. "You're seven today?" Jack nodded. "Well, happy birthday!" Jon grinned, cuffing him lightly across the back of the head. "So what'd you wish for?"_

_Fidgeting with the cards in his hands, Jack looked at them, then back up at Jon, biting his lip. "I wished for a friend for my birthday..."_

_The sounds of twittering birds and honking geese filled the silence that suddenly engulfed the little area around the pond. Jon dropped a card that has been resting at the end of his hand, staring at him oddly._

"_You...don't have a friend?"_

_Jack stared down at his hands, immediately wishing he hadn't said anything. It had been a stupid thing to say..._

"_No... Everyone likes to beat me up and call me names. I try to be nice to them, but they just shove me away and stuff..." Jack mumbled, still staring at his hands._

_Jon stared at him, quiet for a long moment, then moved a bit closer, trying to get Jack to look at him. "I'll be your friend. Your best friend." He watched Jack a moment more, then smiled. "If it makes you feel any better, people pick on me too. They call me Scarecrow because I'm so skinny." _

_Jack looked up at him, wiping away the tears that had been welling up. "Really? You don't look like there's anything wrong with you."_

_Jon shrugged, smiling. "I don't let things like that get to me. Sticks and stones, right?" He paused, spotting something on his new friend's arm. "What's that?" He pointed at it._

_Quickly yanking his sleeve down over the dark bruise on his arm, Jack looked away from him. "It's nothing. I wasn't careful one day and fell down the stairs." _

_Silence reigned once more as Jon stared at him thoughtfully. He opened his mouth to say something when they were interrupted. _

"_Jack, time to head back to the house," his mother called._

_Both boys looked at each other,_ _looking worried._

"_Aw, we just met," Jon complained, crossing his arms._

_Jack looked at him, saddened, not wanting to leave his first new friend. _

"_Jack!" his mother called again, louder this time._

_Jack bit his lip, picking the bent cards up, tucking them into his pocket as he stood up. "I better go..."_

"_Wait." Jon grabbed his arm, below the bruise, and Jack flinched. Jon immediately let go, eyes wide, biting his lip, then stood up next to him._ _"Sorry... What if our parents got our addresses? We could go to each other's house and play or something."_

_Jack watched him a moment, looking for any tricks or lies, deciding there was none, then smiled. "That'd be cool."_

_Jack led the way as they pushed through the bush, going over to the bench where his mother waited, startling her._

"_Mom, this is my new friend, Jonny. He ran into me when he was chasing some ducks."_

_Jon smiled up at Mrs. Napier, nodding. "Can we hang out more? He's really fun to mess with." He punched Jack's other arm playfully and Jack returned the punch, giggling. _

_Mrs. Napier smiled,_ _nodding, then turned to pick her book up. "Of course. Just let me find a piece of paper and pen for your address._"

_Jon turned to look at Jack, all smiles. "I promise not to let anyone hurt you ever again and never let anything happen to you."_

"_Never let anything happen to you..."_

I I I

Joker woke with a start, screaming once, flailing madly before falling right off his chair, hitting the concrete floor with a yelp. He huddled on the floor, shaking madly, staring into the face of his own madness for a moment, hearing ghostly words echoing in his mind.

As the words began to fade from his mind, he started to calm down, his heart rate returning to its somewhat normal rhythm. His shaking subsided into a brief adrenaline rush, still feeling a bit shaky as he pushed himself up off the floor.

Sitting up, Joker peeked over the chair as if expecting someone else to be in the warehouse with him. Senses on high alert, he quickly scanned the entire room to make sure he really was alone, then crawled back up into his chair, holding his head.

"What the hell was that?" he asked himself, feeling lost."Who's... What just happened?" He blinked twice, sitting still. Try as he might, Joker couldn't remember a thing from the dream that had just occurred, leaving him confused for a moment.

However, his confusion didn't last long. Once he figured out that he couldn't dredge anything up from the dream, he pushed the thought aside and brought his mind back to current events. The channel he'd had the tv set to had gone off air, leaving a hiss of static to fill the area he was in.

Joker yawned, stretching his limbs out and flexing his toes, then rolled over up out of his chair, going over to the tv and turning the channel, looking for anything good. Commercials, shows, and movies flipped past without a second thought, making his anger grow.

Deeply annoyed, he shut the tv off, staring at it a moment, a distant memory coming back to him. There'd been someone else who'd picked on him, someone big... Who was it?

Glaring at the tv in frustration, Joker worked his mind, trying to sort of the thoughts, trying to remember.

_A day at the park, a dog attacking a large man, a man wearing biker clothing..._

Joker's eyes narrowed. He remembered the biker dude vividly now. He was almost as bad as the teens he'd gotten rid of before. He'd hurt him in a different way, but it didn't matter. He still deserved to be punished.

The clown closed his eyes in thought, wondering how to even find the man, let alone how to hurt him back. He stood still for a few minutes, working a few ideas in his mind, playing out the results before finally settling on one. He grinned, opening his eyes, then turned, racing out the door of his warehouse.

I I I

Two days later, Joker's excitement grew tenfold as he slammed a dusty yearbook down on his desk. He flipped the pages open, stopping at a torn page, glaring at it. It'd taken a while to find out where the biker was at the moment, but he'd finally figured it out.

Bucky. His old elementary school friend. He remembered Bucky very well. The features, now that he thought about it, were the very same as both a kid and an adult.

True to the bully he was, Bucky was the biker that had harassed him before. But now that the clown had located him at a bar near the edge of the city, he could finally take care of one more little pest.

Joker slammed the book shut, staring at it for a moment. His mind whirled, tucking the important information away that he'd found over the past few days, then he turned. Grabbing a few toys and tucking them into the folds of his hoodie, he threw it on and headed out into the night.

Within an hour, Joker found himself moving down the street towards an old-fashioned biker bar. Motorcycles were parked out front, forming a row from one end of the building to the other. He paused in the shadows, watching carefully, pulling up info in his mind.

Bucky was now the owner of this particular bar, a very well known building for the resident bikers in the city. At the moment, it looked like a full house, which would mean he'd have to wait for all the other annoyances to go home. But oh, what a sweet moment this would be once Bucky stepped foot out of the bar.

Joker watched the bar carefully, backing into the darker shadows as a group came out. Instead of getting on one of the motorcycles, they turned and walked off down the street together.

He narrowed his eyes. It would nearly kill him to wait, but once they were gone, he would get his chance.

I I I

The harlequin spent three boring hours amusing himself in a dirty alley, making his own little games, scaring the resident cats of the alley, and torturing himself in his own mind. He finally came out of his thoughts as the jingle of a bell rang over to him, getting his attention.

He peeked out around the edge of the alley, watching as the beefy man came out of the bar, turned, locked it and moved off down the street.

Joker's heart leapt into his throat. This was the moment he'd be waiting for. And if he could just play his cards right, he'd have his revenge in the sweetest of ways.

Waiting for Bucky to move farther off down the sidewalk, Joker slipped out of the alley and crept after him casually, keeping the hood up tight around his face, hands in his pockets. Anyone none the wiser would see a bulky man walking down the street with a straggly barefooted person behind him.

Thoughts whirled in Joker's mind as he kept pace with him, a grin on his face, imagining all he could do to him.

He pulled himself out of his thoughts as Bucky turned off down a dark-lighted street. This is what Joker had been waiting for.

Quietly, the clown turned after him, glancing around before shucking his hoodie and setting it down near a trash can, pulling a box over it so no one would see it. A crazed look came into his eyes as he slipped into the shadows.

Bucky sighed, glancing up at the bright moon, touching the folded bills of cash in his pocket. He'd done well for the night. But then again, anyone in the area was willing to come into the bar for a few extra drinks.

He yawned, slipping his hands into his pockets, heading off down the street that would eventually take him to his apartment.

A sudden crash of a trash can lid made him look back, startled. A black cat stared at him before moving off, a mouse hanging out of its mouth.

"Stupid cat," he grumbled, watching it go, then turned, heading off again. He didn't get five feet before he heard another sound.

"_Buuuuckkkyy..._" a voice drawled.

He turned, staring off into the darkness, confused. It'd sounded like a child's way of getting one's attention, only...deeper.

"Hello?" he asked the darkness. He waited a moment, even more confused when no one answered.

Turning, he shook his head, taking another step.

"Bucky!" a voice squealed from somewhere above him.

Bucky quickly looked up, eyes narrowed, searching for the one that was calling to him. Again, he was met with only darkness.

"If this is a bunch of kids pulling a joke, you'd better leave before I get mad," he shouted at the shadows. "I ain't in the mood to be messed around with and you really don't want to be on the business end of my knife."

He waited a moment for an answer, nodding in satisfaction when he heard footsteps taking off.

"Damn kids..." He glanced once over his shoulder, then made his way off down the street again.

"_Damn bullies_," a voice from behind him said.

Bucky whirled, startled, pulling his knife and brandishing it at the air, blinking when he hit nothing. There was no one behind him. Not even the cat he saw earlier.

"What the hell...? Am I going crazy?" he murmured to himself. He kept his knife drawn, searching carefully for anything or anyone that might've called his name.

Finding nothing again after a few long moments, he turned, moving off down the street at a brisk pace.

Quiet footsteps from beside him made Bucky turn again, aiming his knife at whatever might be there. Once again, nothing but the rustling of newspapers up against the wall being moved from the breeze of the wind.

Growing a bit alarmed, he broke out into a jog, hurrying down the street. A figure stepped into the streetlight ahead of him and he stopped, staring.

A clown stood in the middle of the light, head hung low, the sleeves of a weird jacket dangling by its feet. He could hear a quiet noise coming from the clown, almost like crying. The head lowered more, the clown's mane of green hair bobbing, hanging over its face.

Bucky stared at the clown, dumbfounded. A clown in the middle of the street in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night? What was going on?

Another sob-sound came from the clown, making him blink. Was this person hurt? Were they lost?

He slowly started moving towards the clown, cautious.

"Hello?" he asked timidly, watching the clown. "Are you okay?"

Instead of answering, the harlequin seemed to cringe, shying away from him, backing out of the light into an alley, its outline still visible in the alleyway.

"If you're hurt, I might be able to help," Bucky said, moving closer. He was still cautious, but a bit worried now.

The clown moved off away from him, carrying a limp he hadn't noticed before. The sobbing sound came again and Bucky made up his mind. This was a person in trouble who needed help and he was the only one around to do so.

"Hey, man, if you need help, don't move away, I can help–" he said, quickly moving after the clown. He froze in the streetlight, staring at the horror before him.

The clown flipped back its mane of hair, turning to look at him. Blazing red eyes glared at him, a horrible grin stretched across the clown's lips. Up close, he could see nothing was wrong with this person, other than the fact that the clown's grin creeped him out.

"Hiya, Bucky..." a child-like voice came from the clown. The grin stretched even wider, impossibly wide for a human to do so.

Bucky wasn't sure what to make of this, staring at the clown. How did he know Bucky's name? Why did it seem like something about this clown was familiar? And, worst of all, why was the clown staring at him like that?

The clown blinked at him, then frowned, seemingly upset.

"Oh, dear," he said in a high-pitched voice. "It seems I've startled you." The tone deepened again. "I apologize, but you see, I really wanted your attention."

"Uh...excuse me?" Bucky replied, confused.

A smirk played at the edge's of the clown's lips as he looked at Bucky.

"Once again, I apologize." The freak waved his hand in a flourish and Bucky watched the sleeve drop over his hand, revealing a card. He shoved it into Bucky's hand, grinning widely. "The name's Joker."

Bucky yelped in surprise, jerking his hand back, looking at the blood on his fingertips. He glared at the clown, then glanced at the card. Blood glistened along the edges, making him curious. A normal card wouldn't do that. In fact, it felt almost metallic, like metal...

"How did you-?" Bucky glanced up, blinking again. The freak was gone.

He looked back down at the card in his hand, completely lost. The clown had given him his card...then gone and disappeared on him. Just plain strange.

Still confused, Bucky went to drop the card to the ground, then paused when he heard a hissing noise. He looked around, trying to find the source, then felt a tickling sensation on his face. He looked back down at the card.

Turning the card over, he saw the back was glowing an eerie green, fumes seeping out of the swirly design on it. Dropping the card, his mind began to feel cloudy and he dropped to his knees, vision swimming.

Two bare feet stepped into view and his head was jerked up. Joker's face swam into view as he squinted at him, trying to focus.

"What did you...do to me?" Bucky mumbled.

Joker tilted his head, watching him, a curious look in his eyes.

"Oh, nothing much. Just something to mind your numb your mind for the moment." Another flash of that grin and Bucky's head dropped to his chest.

He wobbled on his knees for a moment, then collapsed onto his side, coughing. Whatever those fumes were, they were doing their job well. He couldn't breathe right, his mind felt so cloudy, he just wanted to sleep...

"Ah, ah, ah. No sleeping." Something hard connected with Bucky's gut, making him wheeze. "I need you awake for this." The clown turned him over onto his back, still grinning that awful grin.

"What're you...gonna do to me?" Bucky asked again. For the life of him, he just couldn't focus on the clown or the alley. Everything was spinning.

Red eyes seemed to glow brighter as Joker peered down at him.

"What am I gonna do to you?" Well," he said, standing and pulling something out of his straightjacket. "That depends on how much your mind can take."

Bucky blinked, trying to focus on him. How much his mind could take?

Joker moved around him to his other side, heading up towards his head. He hummed casually to himself, smirking, watching his old tormenter's face. The gas was doing its job nicely, another thing to experiment with once he was back on his home ground.

"You see, all kids love to pick on one another, some more than others. Those, my friend, are called bullies." Joker leaned into Bucky's field of vision, grinning widely. "Bullies come in all sorts of shapes and sizes."

"Am I looking at one now?" Bucky shot at him.

The clown frowned down at him, hands on his hips.

"Is that how your mother taught you to talk to people?" There was a hint of annoyance in the freak's words.

Bucky stared up at him, then slowly shook his head.

Fiddling with whatever was behind his back, Joker leaned back again and sighed. He glanced up at the sky, frowning, shaking his head to himself. People these days just never could learn to hold their tongues.

"As I was saying," Joker grumbled, giving him a steely look. "Bullies can be a marvelous thing to study. They pick out a weaker target, maybe because they too were once bullied by someone else. Or maybe their father was an abusive drunk who beat on their children, striking fear into their hearts and eventually making their children bullies as well."

"Just shut the hell up," Bucky moaned, closing his eyes. It hurt to look up at the sky with the spinning stars and walls.

Joker glared down at him, then chuckled deeply, another grin splitting his lips.

"Maybe this one time." He pulled out a flat circular disc, heading over to a dumpster and setting it on it. He pulled out the stand from behind the disc, propping it up, then waltzed back over to Bucky.

"What...what is that?" Bucky asked, staring at the disc.

Joker looked from the disc to him, grinning. He grabbed the man under the arms, hauling him to the other side of the alley and propped him up against the wall.

"This, my friend, is what is called an optical illusion." The harlequin marched back over to the disc, grabbed it, then gave it a whirl, sending waves of black and white round and round.

Bucky stared at the wheel, mesmerized by it, unable to look away. The closer he looked, the more it seemed he was falling into an endless tunnel, lines flashing past in head-pounding waves.

"A very fine line separates normality from insanity. You just need a push..." the clown whispered, looking at the disc.

Nodding numbly, Bucky felt sleepy, but he just couldn't close his eyes. Watching that design spin was so very hypnotic...

Joker grinned, watching as the man started to shake uncontrollably. He glanced at the wheel, then back at Bucky, watching closely. The man's fists were clenched tight at his sides, he was breathing quick and hard, and best of all, the wheel was doing its wonders: Bucky couldn't look away.

"Just keep staring into the pretty design, my friend," he whispered, pulling out a gas bomb. He hefted it in his hand a few times, watching the wheel, smirking. The hypnotic design didn't bother him the least; in fact, he really seemed to have a thing for swirly designs.

"Have fun in crazy land," he giggled, dropping the gas bomb. It broke on impact, a haze of green rising into the air around them.

Joker turned, heading through the gas and emerging out into the clear, walking to the end of the alley and picking up his hoodie. He slipped it on, not looking back as insane laughter drifted high, fixing the hood before heading back home.

I I I

Crazed laughter echoed through the warehouse, filling every nook and cranny. The sound rose from crazed giggles all the way up to hysterical shrieks.

Joker rolled around on the floor, holding his sides, going back into his hysterical fit. He'd been at it for a good ten minutes so far and he showed no signs of slowing down. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he laughed, his giggles rising in pitch again.

Eventually regaining what senses he had left, Joker started to slow down, sides heaving, breathing hard. He giggled madly, sitting up, wiping the tears away from his eyes, grinning once again.

"Is every person in this city really this stupid?" he giggled to himself.

He collected himself after a few moments, standing and brushing himself off, still breathing heavily. He marched over to his chair, flopping down and sighing, letting his heartbeat return to its normal rhythm

_The teens, that idiot biker... Who else has yet to meet their fate?_

One name jumped to mind, nearly knocking him senseless for a few seconds.

_That jerk will get what's coming to him. Once he's out of Arkham, I'll be the first one he meets up with_.

Feeling the night's adrenaline drain from his body, he slumped in his seat, feeling exhausted. He'd been on the move a lot recently and it was finally taking its toll on him.

_If I'm going to be constantly on the move, my body's just gonna have to get used to it. I need to strike hard and fast, yet still make a quick getaway. _

He stretched, sighing, getting comfy before rolling onto his side and curling up into a ball, closing his eyes.

I I I

He woke to the sound of tv static, a fuzz of black and white lighting up the room. Groaning in annoyance, he lifted his head, glaring at the tv. It hissed static back at him.

Fumbling around the side of the chair for the remote, he picked it up and clicked the channel button. Several flashed past as he rubbed at his eyes, slowly waking his mind up.

_How long was I out for? It's still night..._

Joker sighed, sitting up more in his chair, yawning, clicking the channel button again.

He flipped past a black background with a blue highlight at the bottom, then paused, turning the station back. He kept his hand on the button, ready to turn it, then glanced at the screen. Joker's hot, excited blood froze and turned to ice in the matter of seconds that he read the highlight at the bottom.

He cranked the volume up to full blast, grabbing the tv and nearly plastering his face to the screen as the cover story rambled on.

"Ben, I'm standing at the gates of Arkham Asylum, home to the criminally insane, with breaking news this night," a news reporter was saying, the man's tie whipping in the night wind, his words nearly cut off by the gust.. "Ex-Doctor Jonathan Crane was sent here six months ago on accounts of his horrific experiments on the inmates and other subjects. He used a specially made hallucinogen that he used in his toxins against his subjects, leaving them in deadly states of fear or madness."

Joker stared at the screen in disbelief, his red eyes wide, his whole body tensed up with the effort not to plaster his face to the screen and miss anything.

"Crane had been sentenced for life for his disturbing crimes, but late last night, a night guard discovered that Crane's cell had been empty. How he got out, officials are still trying to figure this mystery out."

The rest of the story faded out as Joker whirled, bounding back to his chair and flopping down. Thoughts swirled in his chaotic mind.

_Jonny's out of Arkham... Those teens had been right... That asshole didn't help me the night of the accident. _He snarled to himself, curling into a ball and holding his head, squeezing his eyes shut. _Jonny let me fall... He told me he'd be there forever, that we'd be there for each other and he betrayed me! This whole city let me fall..._

Out of the blue, a random thought popped into his mind and all other thoughts screeched to a grinding halt.

_Batsy is supposed to protect people... To be there to save them from any danger... Why wasn't he there for ME?_

He bolted out of his chair, deeply agitated, pacing back and forth frantically, shaking his head. No one cared about the clown that had fallen, no one cared how much pain he'd been in... And most of all, Jonathan Crane had betrayed his only friend and let him fall.

_He's dead... The jerk is dead, he let me fall!! _Joker's mind screamed as he paced.

He paused, glancing over his warehouse, looking at all the toys it contained. Rage clouded his mind as he moved towards a crate, opening it and staring at the specialized mallet within.

_No... Where is the fun if I kill him where he is? It will be on MY turf, not his..._

The clown closed the crate lid, eyes narrowing in thought.

If he'd been in Crane's place, he would go to his friend's house first. Maybe Joker could beat him to it, if he hadn't already been there. From there on, Joker couldn't place where he might go.

_For all I know, he could hit the chemical plant again..._ He paused again, thinking it over. _If the chemical plant is really where bird boy's getting his chemicals, maybe two can play this game..._

He grinned at the thought. He knew the chemical plant better than Crane. That could work to his advantage.

Joker turned, heading back over to the tv to see if there was anything else he had to know. After a minute of useless talking from the reporter, he gave up and walked over to the desk.

_Now... What to take?_

He picked up one of his favored guns, looking it over before tucking it into his back pocket. Better safe than sorry... He wouldn't take the mallet, no. Too big to lug around when he didn't know where the jerk would be. Of course, he wouldn't go anywhere without his razor playing cards. They were already tucked safely away into his straightjacket.

_Hm... If this is gonna be on my turf, it needs to be my rules. He doesn't know the Clown Prince of Crime, so I'll have the element of surprise. _

The harlequin looked his weapons over, decided to play light, then turned, bolting out of his hideout and into the night.

I I I

Jonathan Crane hurried down the sidewalk, keeping his hat down low over his eyes. Frantic thoughts swept through his mind as he made his way down the street, making him cringe.

He'd never intended for anyone to catch wind of what he'd been doing. It'd been his own damn secret and someone had ratted him out. No matter... He'd taken care of the rat the night he got out of Arkham.

Jon paused at an alleyway, catching his breath, leaning against the wall. His eyes darted back and forth warily as he stood there, keeping an eye out for any police.

_Screw the police, my biggest worry is that bat problem now... _

He glanced down at himself, taking in his costume. A custom zipped jacket, ragged fingerless gloves that reached his wrists, a tattered shawl that reached below his shoulders, the torn hat, and his favorite piece of all, the mask that covered his face. Quite terrifying when mixed with the right fear components.

Taking a deep breath, Jon raced through the alley, turning and heading down the street, watching as his friend's house came into view. Thunder and lightning cracked above him as he paused at the stairs, staring up at the house. No lights were on and it looked as thought no one had bothered to sweep the porch in ages.

_Oh, God, please no..._

Jon leaped up the stairs, pounding on the door, his heart echoing the beat, worry flooding him.

"Jack! Jack, please!"

He pounded on the door for a full two minutes, heart racing.

_Please, Jack, answer the damn door!_

He stopped, panting, staring at the door for a full minute, waiting desperately. When no one bothered to answer the door, he took a quick glance around, backed up, then charged full speed at the door with his shoulder.

It crashed open, nearly falling off its hinges, knocking against the wall with a thud. Lightning flashed behind him, lighting up the room for a split second.

"Jack?" Jon took a wary step inside the doorway, glancing outside before shutting the door behind him. "Jacky?"

Slipping off his hat and mask, Jon moved farther into the room, looking around, eyes slowly widening. A fine layer of dust covered everything in the living room, a few magazines thrown at random around the floor.

Glass crunched underfoot as he walked over to the chair, keeping a sharp eye out. He stepped down on a picture frame, breaking the glass, then lifted his foot to see. He bent down, picking up a dusty picture out of the frame, trying to rub the grime off. When he'd cleared most of it away, he felt his heart jump into his throat.

Jack and Jon laughed together in the original picture, both in their teens, Midnight's panting face between them. Jon remembered the photo well. It had been the summer after school graduation, when the three had gone to the park to celebrate. But what hurt Jon most of all was...the picture had been torn in two. Only Jon's laughing face was left of the photo, the other half taken.

"Aw, Jacky..." Jon felt tears swim in his eyes, quickly brushing them away. He stood, tucking the torn photo into his pocket, looking around the room.

Now that his eyes had gotten used to the gloom, he could see that many small objects had disappeared from the cabinets. He remembered a photo album sitting by the tv, a picture of Midnight over on the stand...

Something shiny glinted over by the door as lightning flashed again, catching his attention. He turned, heading over, reaching down and picking up a set of keys.

That settled it. Jack had learned about what Jon had been doing and most likely fled his house in terror.

Jon felt his throat tighten in rage, fists clenching. He wasn't angry at his friend, not at all. He _was_, however, furious that the city had caught him and exposed his experiments and studies to his best friend. If he was lucky, he'd find Jack soon and explain.

_I don't blame Jack at all... If I were him, I probably would've run too, if I'd found out what my best friend had been doing. _

A soft noise caught his attention and he spun on the spot, ready to release his fear toxin on whoever dared sneak up on him. He paused when nothing jumped out at him from the shadows.

_Well, what do you expect? It doesn't look like Jack's been here for months. This place has probably been falling apart ever since he left. _

Casting a last wary look over his shoulder, Jon turned, dropping the keys into his pocket. He sighed, looking around the room once more, ready to head back outside.

A thought jumped into mind and he paused, glancing up the stairs. Would Jack have taken anything with him from up there? Only one way to find out.

Wary, he crept up the stairway, peeking into the hall for any intruders, then made his way to Jack's room. He pushed the door open, staring in disbelief.

There had been quite a fight in Jack's room, it seemed. The mirror on the dresser had been smashed to pieces, shards of glass laying here and there on the floor. Clothes lay scattered near the closet, rumpled and dusty. What really caught Jon's attention were the many scribbles on the far wall of Jack's bed.

He moved closer, looking around the room sadly, then stopped at the wall, studying the doodles. Many of them seemed very incoherent, random words and pictures scribbled onto the wall with what looked like marker. Others seemed to follow a small train of thought, the outlines of what looked like clothing and smiley faces.

"Jack, what happened here?" he murmured to himself.

Jon reached out a hand, fingertips brushing the marks on the wall, then drew back, staring at the wall, sighing.

_Are you really gone, Jack? Or did something happen to you while I was away? This doesn't look like your work. The scattered clothing and missing items I can understand if you ran away, but these drawings? No, not you._

Shaking his head, he turned, heading back the hall and down the stairs, casting one more look around the house. Jack had abandoned it and left, leaving whatever he didn't want behind.

Jon stepped outside, locking the door and shutting it quietly behind him. He stood in the doorway as rain pattered down around him. Quiet, he remained under the shade of the doorway, slipping his mask and hat back on, watching the rain fall, feeling his heart sink.

Jack had been his only friend and now he was gone. He didn't know if he'd simply left or if something horrible had happened to him. Jon knew about the teen group that constantly plagued Jack to and from work. Maybe they had something to do with it.

Just as he was about to head out into the rain, he stopped, a thought occurring to him. It couldn't be the same group he'd hired under his alter ego...could it? If it was the same teen group that was picking on Jack, they'd have to be punished...severely.

_If it's really them, then they're all going to die... I just need to stock up on chemicals first..._

Jon tilted his hat, then moved off into the rain, heading down the street, towards the chemical plant.

I I I

Joker crept around the side of the house, eyes narrowed, a playful smirk stretched across his face. He watched the tall, skinny figure head off down the street, giggling to himself.

_Jonny, Jonny, you're so naughty... _

He'd watched Crane from the kitchen, where he'd snuck in through a cracked window. He'd almost been spotted, but super fast reflexes took him away from the doorway before Crane had even had a chance to realize someone had really been there.

He didn't mind the rain at all. In fact, it helped conceal his bright colors in the dark, dreary night. And what better way to sneak up on an old friend than to be hidden in darkness until the very last second? His eyes glittered at the thought as lightning flashed above his head.

Thirty minutes of scurrying through the city brought the harlequin to the building, the whole plant shut down for the night. If Joker was lucky, there'd be few guards in his way.

He scrambled over the chainlink fence, dropping to the grass in a crouch, listening to the night sounds. Croaking frogs, chirping insects and the occasional hoot of a night owl. Perfect.

Joker darted through the weeds, keeping low, peeping around the side of the building. A few parking lot lights lit up the area, the rest of the ground covered in a white mist from the rain. It swirled around the lights, creating shadows where there should be none, and illuminating another glint in the weeds across the parking lot. He dropped to his belly, watching through the weeds, eyes narrowing.

Crane emerged from the grass not a moment later, the light reflecting off the buckles of his jacket. He kept low to the foliage, approaching the doorway without sound.

Joker leaned his head out just a bit farther to see. A single guard stood in the entryway, heedless of the attack coming from behind him.

There was the sound of a can spraying and Joker saw a cloud of..._something_...around the guard before he fell to the ground, shaking madly. Crane's shadow swiftly disappeared into the darkness of the building and Joker was left to dart after him, glancing at the guard.

He paused, curiosity getting the better of him for the moment. The guard lay face down on the pavement, sobbing quietly, fists clenched. Joker blinked, staring down at the man, then glanced into the door of the plant. A large circle of glass had been cut out of the door, providing easy access to the lock, though the door now lay open.

Giving the guard one more glance, Joker crept into the building, keeping to the shadows as best as he could. He wanted the element of surprise to be in his favor, not Crane's.

The lights above him suddenly crackled to life, startling him, then went out a split second later, leaving him confused for a moment.

_Smart boy! _he mused, grinning to himself. _Cut the power and no one's able to call for help..._

Tiptoeing, he made his way down a few halls, the moonlight coming in through the windows giving him the extra boost his chemical-enhanced eyes needed. His surroundings seemed slightly brighter than what they really were, making him wonder just how much the chemicals had really changed him.

_Night vision? No, not that extreme. But close._

He paused, hearing a soft clink behind him, immediately darting into the hall next to him. He leaped, grabbing hold of the pipework above, flattening himself to the ceiling, holding his breath.

A brown hat passed under him a minute later, the skinny figure heading down the hall towards the lounge room. Joker's eyes narrowed as he spied the aerosol can in Crane's hand.

_So that's how he does it..._

He watched as Crane entered the room, the door shutting behind him, then Joker dropped to the ground, splaying his legs and hands out. Only the rustle of his sleeves betrayed any noise and even that wasn't enough to catch Crane's attention.

_No... Not Crane. At least, not anymore. Scarecrow._

Joker stood like that for a moment, listening for any sounds Crane might be making, ready to bolt into the shadows should the door open. He couldn't just barge in there, he might end up taking a blow himself instead of the other way around.

Nothing but silence, then the soft click of another door in the room.

The clown decided to take a risk, grinning to himself.

_No risk, no fun._

He crept over to the door, carefully pushing it open, making sure to stay low. The door creaked open softly as he slipped inside, looking around. No one was in the room.

Joker stood there, eyes closed, smiling to himself as he listened to the silence. If Crane continued on the path he was going, his next stop would be the elevator.

There were two floors that held chemicals. The third held the green mess that Jack himself had fallen into. The fifth held a massive tank of clear chemicals, the name escaping Joker's mind.

He breezed through the second door, moving swiftly into the next hall, nearly sprinting. Crane didn't know he was here, he didn't need to be careful...much. He knew this building better than the jerkwad that had left him to rot in the tank.

Four flights of silent running on stairs brought the harlequin to the fifth floor. He pushed the door open, peeking around carefully. Glancing up at the walkway, his lips split into a massive grin.

Crane stood on a platform, calmly collecting his samples, a group of guards lying across the floor, moaning and sobbing quietly.

_One push! Just one push and he's dead! Push him! PUSH HIM!! _his mind screamed at him as he watched. _All it'll take is one push and that asshole will be gone forever!!_

But Joker couldn't bring himself to do it. Not yet, at least. He needed answers. Answers to why his one and only friend had left him to rot in a tank, which he'd barely survived from, and to why he got shipped to Arkham.

His eyes narrowed as Crane turned, slipping the vials into a small bag at his side. The red eyes followed him as he marched off across the walkway, heading through the door that would lead him to the first floor.

_PLAYTIME!! _his mind shrieked. He heard voices take up the chant in his head and he grinned, spinning on his heel and charging down the stairs at breakneck speed. He'd cut Jonny off, then have some shadowplay fun with him.

It would take Crane a minute or two to reach the first floor, but that was all Joker needed. His mind whirled at top speed, forming a plan to lure the jerk back to the beginning of madness.

_But wait... He deserves some small warning._

_Where the hell did you come from??_

_I've been here, as you have._

_Well, shut up. It's my time to play. You had your chance. _

_Throw something then! Let him know he's not alone!_

_...that's not a bad idea. _

He ducked down behind a desk as a door on the far wall opened, a shadow looming out of the dark stairway. Even as insane as he was, Joker's eyes widened as he felt a deep feeling fill his heart, watching the Scarecrow emerge from the stairwell.

_I'm not afraid, dammit! Stop your yapping and go back to your own corner!_

_But look at him! He's so intimidating!_

_Shut the hell up! That's why I'm in charge!_

The deep feeling in him was squelched instantly. Joker eyed Crane curiously, taking in the whole outfit. A weird jacket, the hat, and the mask.

_Hmph. I look better in threads any day._

Crane moved off towards the front door, shouldering the little bag, adjusting it.

It was now or grabbed an empty coffee mug off the desk, making sure Crane didn't see him. He bent down, watching Crane from under the desk, then chucked the mug at his legs as hard as he could.

There was a loud shattering of ceramic and a string of swearing. Joker shoved the back of his fist in his mouth, giggling madly.

"What the hell?" Crane snarled, rubbing his ankle, looking around. "Who the hell threw that?" He took a good look around the room, glancing at the desk, frowning. It was the only place nearby someone could've thrown that mug at such close range.

Joker watched him from under the desk, waiting for him to make his move. Once he was sure Crane had gotten a glimpse of him, he'd lead him on a merry chase back to his own turf where they wouldn't be bothered.

Steeling himself up, Crane pulled the aerosol can from his bag, glancing around to make sure him and the unseen attacker were alone. With no warning, he charged the desk, taking Joker by surprise. He was much quicker than what he expected.

The clown hurled himself away from the desk as Crane leaped over it, taking off down the hall, heading for the back exit. He could hear Crane right behind him, a sure sign he wasn't going to give up the chase so quickly.

Joker wasn't sure how much time he had to pull off his plan. He hadn't taken time to check a clock. All he knew was time was short; anyone could come into the chemical plant at any given moment, they'd call the police once they saw what was going on and he'd find himself in more trouble than he wanted before he was ready.

"Get back here, you freak!" Crane yelled from behind him.

The harlequin couldn't help himself. He started laughing. Laughing at Crane, the chase, the threat. Everything at the moment was funny.

He threw open the back door to the chemical plant, setting off the alarms inside, racing outside and charging off down the street. Throwing a glance over his shoulder, he saw Crane was still behind him, sure he wouldn't give up the chase now that he knew he hadn't been alone in the building.

Joker bolted off down the street, hoping no one was watching the chase. His biggest fear was the Batman watching this whole thing take place and he'd be taken by surprise before he could have any fun with the city.

He slid around a corner, giggling wildly, bolting off down the street. A rattle of trash cans behind him told him Crane had not given up the chase.

"Why not turn and face your fears, you coward!"

The clown's grin grew wider. Jonny was telling him to face his fears.

_What fears, Jonny boy? I have none, thanks to you! But then again..._

Joker suddenly turned, meeting Crane head-on. He bounced into the air, kicking him hard in the chest.

Jon slammed down hard on his back, coughing, holding his chest. Damn, if this freak wasn't fast. He sat up, gasping for air, then blinked, staring at the clown in front of him.

"Twisted dreams, Jonny..." A glass ball shattered in front of Crane, spilling green gas into the air. It rose quickly, engulfing him in it.

The sky started to spin as Crane stumbled back, coughing, trying to see through the haze. His mind was starting to grow foggy, things were starting to spin out of control. He stumbled backwards out of the gas cloud, catching a glimpse of the freak before he collapsed on the pavement.

His vision spun as he lay on his back, breathing heavily, feeling a darkness in his mind. He could see and feel the raindrops hitting his face, running down and collecting below him. A pale-skinned face leaned into his field of vision, spinning, making his stomach churn. He could hear wild giggling as he shut his eyes, finally letting his mind surrender to the blackness.

I I I

_Tick...tick...tick..._

Jon slowly opened his eyes, wincing at the bright light that stabbed at them. His eyes felt so heavy, his mind still feeling light as a feather.

A few drops of water hit his forehead, running down the side of his face.

"_Jooooonnnyyy...." _a voice came from a distance away from him.

He tried to raise his head, tried to see who was calling his name. His neck screamed in protest against the motion; must've been from when his head had been resting against his chest.

"_Wake up, bird boy," _the voice came again, somewhere off to his side.

A tingling pain in his wrists cleared his mind a little more, letting him know he could be in more danger than he originally thought. Blinking, he glanced down at himself.

He was sitting in a chair, his hands pulled tightly behind his back. His cans and chemical supply were sitting on a crate about twenty feet away, set out in open view. Regaining his senses, Jon realized his hat and mask had been taken. They were nowhere in sight.

"Ah, so the little raven has awaken." His hat suddenly bobbed into view in front of him, placed atop the head of the green-haired clown he'd chased earlier.

"What...who are you?" he asked, feeling a bit confused. "Where am I?"

Joker's eyes narrowed, a smirk playing at the edges of his lips. He moved around Crane, heading over to a crate and hopping up on it, sitting down and dangling his legs off the side.

"Why, you're in my humble home. I admit, its tearing itself apart slowly, but for now it'll do," he giggled, looking around the warehouse fondly.

Crane stared at him, then looked around, taking in his surroundings more closely. Crates stacked up against the walls, what looked like a play-castle over in the corner, some playing cards lying on the floor.

"Okay...so why am I here?" he asked curiously, returning his gaze back to the clown.

The clown pulled his feet up to his chest, smiling to himself, flexing his toes. He stayed quiet for a few minutes, as though deep in thought.

Minutes crept by as the clown remained silent, Jon's patience wearing thin. He didn't have time for this. He needed to find out what happened to his friend while he was away!

He opened his mouth to demand and answer from the clown, but a white finger suddenly pressed up against his lips, the freak suddenly in front of him.

"You want to know why you're here?" the clown squealed.

A blank stare, then a nod.

"Why, Jonny, I'm surprised. You hurt me with your ignorance. But then again, you never were the caring, knowing type..." Joker stalked off to the crate with the supplies on it, looking them over. "You have such an interesting design in weapons. A fear toxin, huh?"

Crane stared at him blankly, not sure where this was going. What did this freak want with him? True, a lot of people might be after him, but he'd never even met this clown before.

"Yeah..." He watched the clown, carefully twisting his hands behind his back, trying to undo the knot that bound his hands together. The clown was darting around the crate, looking his supplies over eagerly.

Grinning, Joker picked up one of the aerosol cans, turning it to get a better look at it. He glanced at Crane's bag, curious, then returned his gaze to the can.

"So tell me, Jonny. How does one use this?"

"Why don't you find out, you freak?" Something heavy smashed into the side of Joker's head, knocking him to the floor.

Jon glared at him, twisting the metal bar in his hands, ready to strike again. While the harlequin had been busy looking at his weaponry, he'd managed to loosen the knot and grabbed the closest thing to him.

Joker blinked,wincing, holding the side of his head.

_Okay, I admit it. Strike one goes to Jonny. But this is one fight he won't be walking away from..._

He quickly got his feet under him, launching himself at Crane, tackling him and the bar, both of them rolling to the floor in a tangled heap. They both held onto the bar, eachtrying to wrestle it away from the other. Joker snarled, red eyes blazing, kicking him hard in the gut.

"I don't have time for this!" Crane shouted at him. He reached back, grabbing his can from the floor, then stuck it dead in Joker's face.

Joker barely had time to blink before the toxin hit him straight on. He yelped, rolling away from him, keeping his hands over his face.

Jon watched him, panting, then stood, turning away and heading over to the crate. He picked up his bag that had gotten knocked to the floor, then set the cans inside. Time to get out...He paused suddenly, staring at the far wall. There were no sounds of crying, screaming, or whimpering. In fact, all he could hear was silence and the raindrops that pattered down through a hole in the roof to the chair he had been sitting in. He whirledquickly, afraid the clown was sneaking up behind him. Nothing there now, save for the toxin cloud that was slowly dispersing in the air. Cautious now, Crane looked around himself, checking every shadow and crevice carefully.

A quiet giggling came fromright behind him and he spun, staring. The clown had been behind him the whole time.

"Nice try, Jonny boy,"Joker giggled, spreading his arms wide. "Your toxin doesn't work on me."

Crane blinked in utter confusion. His toxin had never let him down before, yet here the freak was still standing, still of apparent sound mind.

"How...it didn't work on you?" he managed to croak out.

The red eyes narrowed at him, becoming more dangerous as the clown's body posture became threatening. The shoulders hunched up, the head tilted to the side a little, the grin growing ever wider.

"No, it didn't, Jonny..." came the snarl. "Nothing hurts me anymore. Not since the day I fell."

Crane backed away, taking slow steps, not wanting to provoke the feral animal now in front of him. He wasn't sure what the clown was capable of and he didn't want to find out.

"You fell..." he whispered, watching Joker. The clown took a few more steps closer, closing the distance between them.

"Yes...all thanks to you, my old friend." Joker glared at him, barely keeping his anger back. Crane was so stupid, if he was so smart he should've figured it out how long ago.

Still backing away, Jon stared at him, then suddenly froze. Minus the long hair, flashy colors and the new skin tone...

"Oh, my God..." He felt his knees weaken, caught himself on one of the crates. "...Jack?"

"You betrayed me, Jonny... You and this whole damn city!" Joker threw his arms out wide, glaring around his warehouse, seeing the city outside. He turned his gaze back on his old friend. "You let me fall, you asshole!"

Still in shock, Crane narrowed his eyes, shaking his head.

"I didn't let you fall," he shot back. "I didn't even know you had. I was locked up at Arkham. I didn't know you were missing until I went to your house." Pausing, he stared at the clown in front of him. "...you were there too, weren't you? You were watching me."

Joker flicked a card into his hand, moving in, eyes narrowed. "You weren't there for your one friend in his biggest moment of need. Now there's no one around to help you."

It took Jon a long moment to realize his friend wasn't kidding around. He jumped back as the card sliced through the air, just barely missing him. He backed away, staring at Joker, his mind unable to comprehend what he was seeing.

"Wait, Jacky, please. What happened to you?"

"Stop calling me that!" Joker screamed, charging him.

Jon turned tail and ran, not sure where he was going. He was in unfamiliar territory, he wasn't sure what to do about his friend, but he sure as hell didn't want to hurt him without knowing what was going on. He raced around the side wall of the castle, pressing up tight against the stone.

"Jack, please, just tell me what happened. Maybe I can help you," he shouted around the corner.

"No one can help me now, Jonny... Or you," came the reply from above.

Joker dropped down in front of him, his face contorted in pure hatred. He held two razor sharp playing cards in each hand.

"Jack, please, I'm your friend," Jon pleaded, staring at the madman before him.

"I'm not your friend anymore," Joker hissed, bristling in fury. "Not since the day you let me fall. You abandoned your one and only friend for your fucking experiments!" He drew his arms up, driving the cards towards Crane's neck.

He ducked under them, rolling away before climbing to his feet, staring at Joker, his eyes wide.

"What?? Jack, I'd never do that to you!" He ducked under another swipe of the cards. "Just listen to me, please! If you have questions, I'll answer them."

The cards paused an inch from his throat, red eyes watching him carefully. "Then start talking." A large hand seized Crane by the throat, backing him up and throwing him hard into a plush chair.

Crane coughed, rubbing his throat as he watched the clown pace in front of him. He glanced over to the doors, then back at him. This is what his friend had become... Months of worrying and searching, only to find he'd become what his tormentors had once called him: a freak.

Joker massaged his temples, feeling a war go off in his head. True, it did feel like a part of his old self was there, but it was squished down permanently by all the hatred and cruel delight that had swam to the surface once he'd had that dunk in the chemical tank. The sadistic, fun loving part of him wanted nothing more to rip this traitor limb from limb and leave him for the crows to find and pick apart. But the timid, clear-thinking part of him needed to hear what he had to say before any judgement was taken on him.

"Why were you sent to Arkham, you jerk?" Joker snarled, turning to glare at him.

Jon shifted uncomfortably, as though he was hiding something. His eyes kept flicking from Joker to the doors and back.

"TALK!" the clown screamed at him, feeling his fury nearing its boiling point.

There was a long silence before Crane was able to look him in the eye.

"Jack, I...I did it for you."

Silence reigned as Joker felt his mind tearing itself apart. The voices in his head hushed immediately, the new world in his mind falling to pieces around him. He could feel all his personalities rise as one to wonder just how that was possible, the timid one in his mind going into a quiet shock.

"...what?"

Jon nodded his head, eyes watering. "Please, Jack, just listen to me. I was so tired of seeing people pick on you, torment you, pushing and shoving you around. I knew you couldn't face them by yourself, so I... I wanted to help. I took on my Scarecrow alter-ego because I could spread the fear they caused you."

Joker could only stare in numb shock as Crane went on, his mind unable to accept it.

"You were so afraid of the city and the people, I decided to get back at them for you. I made them feel the same fear you felt every day you walked out of the house," Crane said, watching him. "Someone ratted me out and I got caught. They put me in Arkham and I didn't know what happened to you."

Another long silence.

Chaps reigned in Joker's mind at the moment. Not the good chaos he was used to. This chaos was caused by what his old friend had just told him. Tears sprung to his eyes as he thought it over, his anger and hate leaving him momentarily.

_Jonny did all this for me? He got himself thrown in Arkham just because he wanted to help me? He caused fear and death in the city just to help his only friend... _

_But...that article..._

_But he did it for us... He hurt people so they'd feel the same fear we felt every day... He really was being a friend. He didn't abandon us._

"Jack, please answer me," Crane's voice broke through the silence. Joker blinked, looking at him.

"So...all this, the disappearing acts, how busy you were, the murders... It was all for me?" Joker's voice squeaked, betraying how close to tears he was.

Crane nodded silently, watching him. "I never meant to hurt you or frighten you. You should know that, Jacky. We've been friends ever since we were seven."

Joker turned away from him, trying to sort out this new problem. He was stuck between worlds, unsure of what to do. Kill his best friend who'd only been trying to help... Or...

_What if he's lying? He could just be saying this so you trust him again, then he'll turn and stab us in the back. _

_But what if he's telling the truth? We've been friends all these years, he wouldn't just suddenly start to hate me._

_You're fooling yourself. You were ALWAYS a weakling. Listen to him. He said he did it because he hated to see how pathetic you were. He could resent you because you never stuck up for yourself. It took that damn fall into the tank to bring me fully into the world. I'm what finally made you strong._

_Don't hurt him, please, I'm begging you. What if he really is telling the truth? If he is, then he did all this madness for US. _

_Shut up, you weakling. I'm in charge and I get to decide what we do from now on. Maybe he's telling the truth, maybe he's lying... It doesn't matter to me anymore._

_Please, fuck, don't kill him!_

_Who said anything about killing?_

Still feeling torn, Joker finally turned to face his friend. Jon stared back at him, quiet, his expression hard to read.

"Get the fuck out of my life, Jonny. I don't need you anymore."

Crane blinked at him in shock. "...what? Jack, I can't do that now that I know you're okay."

"Stop fucking calling me that!" Joker screamed. Jon winced, holding up his hands.

"Okay, okay. So...what should I call you now?" he asked timidly.

Joker glared, feeling his anger start to rise again. "Call me Joker. Now get the fuck out before I decide to throw you out for you."

"Ja...uh. Joker, please, just listen to me. I can help you."

Another flare of anger. "No one can help me, Jonny. Jacky died the moment he fell in that tank."

Jon stared at him blankly for a long moment. "You fell...in the chemical tank?" Joker's look told him all he needed to know. "Oh, God, I never meant for that to happen. If I'd known something like that would've happened, I'd never have referred you to that job."

The clown paused, a thought coming to him. "You didn't kill us, Jonny... You saved us."

Glancing up at the harlequin, Jon stood, brushing the tears away. "Just tell me one thing. Please, Joker. What happened to you when you fell_?_"

Joker's mouth split into a wide grin as he turned to look at him. "Why, Jonny, I'm surprised you haven't figured it out already. I lost my mind, Jonny boy. I was always screw-loose before that fall, but now..." He giggled wildly, spreading his hands out. "I truly am the Harlequin of Hate now."

Crane stared at him, feeling heartbroken. His friend had finally snapped. He was no longer the comedic, quiet boy he used to know. Now he was...this.

"Go on, Jonny," Joker whispered, watching him, giggling. "Get out before the rage comes back and we decide you're really lying."

Surprised by the sudden swing in attitude, Jon bit his lip. Jack really was dead in there...

"Just don't forget yourself, Jack... Don't let that monster control you." Jon turned, feeling his heart break as he grabbed his supplies and headed out of the warehouse, not looking back. He didn't want to take another look at what his old friend had become.

He closed the door on insane laughter that drifted out behind him, lodging itself forever in his mind.Once a few blocks away,he couldn't control it any longer. He raised his fists to the sky, screaming madly and ranting, furious at what Gotham City had done to his friend. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he succumbed to his own sort of special madness, storing it away in a special part of his mind.

"You're not alone, Jack... Not anymore. You might be gone while that monster takes over, but I know you're still there, deep down. Stay strong and don't let him get the best of you." He glared out into the city, wiping the tears from his eyes. "I thought I was done hurting people, once I found you, but now I really see just how badly this city deserves it."

Jon stood, collecting himself, then proudly strode off down the street, heading into the heart of the city, unknowing of the caped vigilante that followed closely behind, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

I I I

Joker lay curled up in his chair in a tight ball, eyes closed tightly. For once, he was in no mood for fun and games. At least, not at the moment. He'd decided he'd keep Jonny alive. His mind had decided he really was telling the truth, but he just didn't want to believe it.

_Jonny really did care about me... But no matter, no time for him now. We have bigger plans in mind. _

He opened his eyes, his gaze settling on the folds of a giant balloon resting inside the castle walls. As he stared at it, he glanced over at the gas storage tanks in the corner of the warehouse, a plan curling its way into his twisted mind.

_This city will see I'm not just some pushover. They'll soon be dying of laughter...and I'll be there, in the middle of the chaos, the loudest Joker of all. _

I I I

And so ends "Monster" after a struggling 9 months. I really tried to make this as heartfelt as I could, I just feel I'm not good with putting so much emotion into my stories. Anyway, please, anyone who has read this the whole way through, let me know what you thought of this story. I'd love to hear anything you have to say about this (but please, nothing too harsh).


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